





t "^^0^ 












^- 



^^<S^ 




\> 



s^ ^0' 












■^^0^ 







A^ 



<6' o^ 



9/ /" "- 






°^:% 












V^"-.-".'^ 



V A 





















V 















/\. .., V-- /:,.., V'^ 
















^^0^ 






^\" J 



>^ <?<. 



'%.^^ 









^ " X M, 




V 



% ^^_ . ^" ^ 



^>Sfe{^'V(^ 



d' 



















X^^ ^^ 






"\^^^ 















0^^ 









/ J2-3( 



fC 



To My Wife. 



"> 



PREFACE. 



From a number of essays written at various times 
and on various subjects I have brought these together 
in a volume because it seemed to me that they might 
be of some interest to students and lovers of our his- 
tory. With one exception they all bear directly on 
the history of the United States, and the group relat- 
ing to certain Federalist leaders and their contempo- 
raries forms a closely connected series of biographical 
studies in the history of that famous party. My 
thanks are due to the editor of the " North American 
Review " and to the editor of the " Magazine of Amer- 
ican History" for permission to use two articles which 
originally appeared in those periodicals and which are 
reprinted in this volume in a much extended form 
and with many changes. 

H. C. LODGE. 
Boston, March 8, 1884. 



t 



co]N"te:^ts. 



PAGE 

The Puritans and the Restoration ..•••• 1 

A Puritan Pepys 21 

The Early Days of Fox 85 

William Cobbett 110 

Alexander Hamilton 132 

Timothy Pickering 182 

Caleb Strong 224 

Albert Gallatin 263 

Daniel Webster 294 

Colonialism in the United States 330 

French Opinions of the United States, 1840-1881 . .367 



STUDIES IN HISTORY. 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 



The world is fortunate in having at last a Life of 
John Milton in every way worthy of its subject. It 
is high praise to the biographer to be able to say this, 
but Mr. Masson entirely deserves it. In six volumes 
he has told the story of Milton's life, and of the stir- 
ring times in which the poet lived ; and the work, as 
a whole, is one upon which any man may be well con- 
tent to rest his literary reputation. Mr. Masson has 
shown throughout patience, care, and thoroughness of 
investigation and research in a high degree, and there 
are many passages conspicuous for penetrating and 
original criticism and for forcible and picturesque de- 
scription. The work is of course open to criticism, 
but chiefly in matter of form. It is not well, as a 
rule, to combine history and biography as Mr. Masson 
has done, for the interest is thus divided ; the reader 
is continually taken back and forth from the general 
to the particular, from the nation to the individual. 
Some plan very like this would be absolutely neces- 
sary in writing the life of Oliver Cromwell, but it is 
1 



2 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

not, except for a brief period, essential in tlie case of 
John Milton. Then, again, Mr. Masson's love and 
admiration for his hero have carried him away into 
almost unlimited detail, which becomes at times mere 
antiquarianism. Such, for example, in large measure, 
is the last chapter in regard to Milton's remote de- 
scendants and the famous editions of his works. The 
one subject is suited to genealogy, the other to bibli- 
ography; but unrestrained indulgence in them here 
weighs down the brilliant story of a life of absorbing 
and dramatic interest. The facts known with abso- 
lute certainty concerning Milton's last years are very 
meagre, and might be fully and effectively stated in a 
few pages ; but Mr. Masson devotes chapters to spec- 
ulations, not only as to where and how Milton lived 
after the fall of the Commonwealth, but as to his 
probable thoughts and feelings with reference to cur- 
rent events. Much of this speculation is very inter- 
esting, and in the descriptions of Milton and others 
in supposed but likely situations, Mr. Masson shows 
a great deal of imagination and artistic skill. Never- 
theless, the tendency is to prolong these imaginings 
beyond judicious limits, and the same disposition to 
run into detail is manifested here and there in the 
more purely historical portions of the book, as in 
the minute accounts and frequent summaries of the 
fates of the regicides. All this tends to distract the 
attention instead of concentrating it, and thus to ob- 
scure the very great merits of the work as a whole. 
Yet after all deductions and criticisms have been 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 3 

made, this " Life o£ Milton '■ is a fine and valuable con- 
tribution to English history and one of great and en- 
during worth, and the concluding volume ^ is not the 
least important part of it, for it deals with a subject of 
very deep interest and with a great historical problem. 
The Restoration was a most important period, and the 
fate of the Puritan party, after the accession of Charles 
II., is a matter of absorbing historical interest. What 
that fate was is well known, but its causes are not even 
yet wholly explained, although in the main they can be 
understood. The questions to which the fall and sub- 
sequent history of the Puritans give rise are not fully 
answered in this volume, and probably never can be, 
but Mr. Masson has thrown a great deal of light upon 
them and offers many sti'iking suggestions. It is in 
the light thus given and with the aid of these sug- 
gestions that I wish to consider the Puritans and the 
Restoration. 

The period of the Restoration is one of strong con- 
trasts and of great events. It is also without excep- 
tion the most contemptible period, politically and mor- 
ally, in the whole history of the English race, albeit 
tradition has gilded its vices and given to it virtues 
which it never possessed. For generations — and even 
now, no doubt, in certain portions of English society — 
it derived countenance and jsrotection from the creed 
which set up Charles I. as a saint, termed the Puritan 
revolution an unholy rebellion, and consigned Oliver 

1 The Life of John Milton and History of his Time. By David 
Masson, M. A., LL. D. Vol. vi. 1660-1674. 



4 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Cromwell to the direst limbo of historical criminals. 
Slowly but surely, however, time has clone its work. 
Confusing and misleading details have been put in 
order or have disappeared ; the veil of interested de- 
ception has been rent asunder, and solid, substantial 
truth has compelled acknowledgment. Within the 
last half century Macaulay and Carlyle have laid their 
strong hands upon the historical fabric reared by fer- 
vent royalism nearly two centuries ago, and have torn 
it down. Others have followed through the breach 
thus made, and it is now no longer necessary to enter 
into argument to show that Oliver Cromwell was the 
greatest soldier and statesman combined that England 
has ever produced ; that John Hampden is, on the 
whole, the finest representative of the English gentle- 
man, and John Pym one of the greatest, as he was one 
of the earliest, in the splendid line of English parlia- 
mentary leaders. The grandeur of the period which 
oj^ened with the Long Parliament and closed with the 
death of the Protector is established beyond the pos- 
sibility of doubt. During that period church and 
crown were overthrown, a king was executed, great 
battles were fought, Scotland was conquered, and Ire- 
land pacified for the first and last time. Fi'oni a 
condition of abject debasement abroad England was 
raised to a commanding position in the civilized world. 
Robert Blake established once more her naval suprem- 
acy, the Dutch were defeated, new colonies were added 
to the empire, Puritan soldiers won the admiration of 
Europe, and there was no western monarch who did 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 5 

not respect and fear the name of Oliver Cromwell and 
of the Commonwealth he protected. 

The great Puritan died. There was a short period 
of weak government and jarring factions ; and then 
Monk, at the head of the Puritan irmy, restored 
Charles II. to the throne which he could never have 
gained for himself. Then came the twenty years and 
more of the Restoration. What can they show in com- 
parison Avith that which had gone before ? From being 
the first power in Europe, England sank into the posi- 
tion of a French dependency. The sovereign of Eng- 
land became a pensioner of the French king, and Eng- 
lish statesmen received bribes from the same defiling 
source. In two doubtful wars with the chief Protest- 
ant state of Europe, England suffered humiliation and 
defeat. The Dutch burned English ships at Chatham, 
and fire and pestilence desolated the capital. The 
statute-book was loaded with oppressive laws against 
the non-conformists, while Charles and his brother 
wove secret plots to bring back the Roman Church. 
Politics were stifled in intrigue and agitation, which 
resulted in the infamous popish plot and in the ill- 
starred rebellion of Monmouth. Corruption held full 
sway in every department of the public service, and 
the thriving colonies of America were wrung to yield 
a subsistence to needy and dissolute courtiers. The 
morals of the court were on a level with the public 
policy. There was, in fac^i, no morality among the 
ruling classes, and the viciousuess of public affairs was 
increased tenfold in private life. From the king, with 



6 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

his harem of mistresses, home-bred and imported, 
down to the lowest hanger-on at Whitehall, there was 
neither sense, morals, nor manners in the court, as 
Charles himself said of Lord Jeffries, in a comparison 
more forcible than delicate. To know how vile it all 
was it is only necessary to read De Grammont. There 
is, moreover, no greater mistake than to accept the 
pleasant legend that this moral rottenness had a fair 
exterior, and as this fact has never been put better, 
so far as I am aware, than by Mr. Masson, we will 
quote his words : — 

" The familiar representation of the court of Charles II. 
as a court of fine and gracious manners, — a court in which 
' vice itself lost half its evil by losing all its grossness,' — 
is a lying tradition. The principal men and women of that 
court, though dressed finely and living luxux'iously, spoke 
and thought among themselves in the language of the sham- 
bles and the dissecting-room." 

Coarse debauchery was the characteristic of the court, 
and meanness in the most superlative degree that of 
the politics, of Charles II. 

What was there to redeem all this? Accoi-d- 
ing to the popular theory of that day the reign of the 
saints had crushed out all the finer and more grace- 
ful parts of human existence, and arts and literature 
had withered before them. Here at least the Resto- 
ration — genial, jovial, with relaxed morals and the 
sunshine of royal favor — should have produced a 
plentiful harvest. Tradition affirms that this was the 
case; and here again tradition lies. It is true that 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 7 

the scientific movement, begun under the Common- 
wealth, made rapid progress, and that the Royal So- 
ciety favored by Charles, who had, or feigned to have, 
a pretty taste for science, grew apace and did good 
work. This was the best, indeed almost the only, in- 
tellectual glory of the j)eriod of the Restoration. It 
is also true that the theatres came back with Charles, 
but that was all. The literature of the Restoration, 
so called, belonged at first to an earlier period, and 
never produced anything of great credit to the Eng- 
lish race, with the exception of that which bore the 
names of John Dry den and Samuel Butler. The the- 
ory was that literature revived with splendid efful- 
gence when the king got his own again. It is well 
worth while to follow Mr. Masson's examination of 
this question, and witness his destruction of this 
pleasing royalist fancy. 

After the Restoration in 1660 we find Davenant, 
Denham, Waller, Cowley, and Marvell the most prom- 
inent names in the literature of the day, — all sur- 
vivals from the reign of Charles I. and from the Com- 
monwealth, and all men whose best work had been 
already done. There were, besides, a number of in- 
ferior dramatists, such as Cokain and Crowne, and 
verse-writers and poetasters among the courtiers, like 
Sedley and Sackville, Earl of Dorset. John Dryden, 
of Puritan family and origin, had turned from eulo- 
gies of Cromwell to panegyrics on Charles, and was 
at this period pouring out his plays, which are chiefly 
remarkable as showing how very badly a man of real 



8 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

genius can write. They are on this account a literary 
curiosity, but few persons now read them, and those 
who do so waste their labor. Dryden's tragedies are 
not only unreal, but dull to the last point; and liis 
comedies are not merely dull, but heavily and stu- 
pidly coarse. The system of rhyming tragedies, ap- 
proved by Charles and adopted by Dryden, was a fail- 
ure, and not even the poet's command of language and 
showy and sometimes splendid rhetoric have been able 
to hide poverty of thought and failure to delineate 
character, or to save his plays from deserved oblivion. 
It was not until the Restoration period was in its sec- 
ond decade that Dryden, by his manly and vigorous 
satires, by odes which are among the best in the lan- 
guage, and later still by his translation of Virgil, won 
the high place to which his great talents entitled him. 
Even his genius was for many years debased and dis- 
torted by the atmosphere in which he lived. 

Another man of genuine ability, who, although well 
advanced in life, may fairly claim a place in the liter- 
ature of the Restoration, was Butler. Although the 
merits of " Hudibras " have been exaggerated, be- 
cause largely taken on trust, yet no one can question 
the power and merit of the poem. It is a rough, 
strong, grotesque satire, full of point and force, and 
did more to put the defects of the Puritans in a ridic- 
ulous and glaring light, and give popular currency to 
their faults, real and supposed, than anything which 
has ever been written. The terse and stinging sen- 
tences of the mock epic were, when they first ap- 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 9 

peared, in every one's month ; bnt their author lived 
and died a neglected and morose man, bequeathing a 
volume of posthumous papers, full of bitter flings 
against mankind. 

There was in fact no great outburst of literary ac- 
tivity at the beginning of the Restoration period, and 
nothing that bears the stamp of that event. With 
the exception of Dryden and Butler, there was no lit- 
erature of the Restoration, strictly speaking, until we 
come to the writers brought forth by the opening of 
the theatres, — to Congreve, Wycherly, Farquhar, 
and Van Br ugh. These dramatists were unquestion- 
ably the true children of the Restoration, and by their 
works we may know them. In other fields there was 
an equal barrenness. If we except John Locke and 
Jeremy Taylor, there was hardly a single writer of 
the first eminence — for Hobbes belonged to a past 
age — among those who figured in London and in 
court society. 

Yet during the early years of Charles's reign and 
at the time of the most marked literary dearth, there 
was a great literature, although it was not of the 
Court or of the Restoration. It was at that time that 
two of the most splendid works in the whole range of 
English literature were given to the world. One was 
written by a religious tinker ; the other by the blind 
Latin secretary of Cromwell. From Bedford Jail 
came " Pilgrim's Progress," and from a small house 
in an obscure London street, " Paradise Lost," the 
greatest of English epics. Puritanism was bitterly 



10 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

hostile to theatres, to amusements, to all the lighter 
and more pleasing* elements of life. The Puritans 
rose to power by hard fighting, and during the con- 
flict and after their ascendency was assured they pro- 
duced little or nothing in the way of literature. Af- 
ter their fall the world of fashion looked to the men of 
the new era for a literature relieved from the shackles 
of a hypocritical asceticism. But the Muse that came 
with Charles was, like most of his companions, male 
and female, a debauched creature at best, who smacked 
more of intrigue and midnight revels than of aught 
else ; and it was from the beaten adherents of a fallen 
cause that the true poetry and the great literature 
of the time emanated, full of imaginative fire and 
religious fervor. It was an uncongenial atmosphere 
for such work ; but while the " Pilgrim's Progress " 
has passed through countless editions and is read 
wherever the English speech is known, and while 
" Paradise Lost " has continued to issue from the 
press in new forms, and has attracted hosts of com- 
mentators and readers, the literature of the Restora- 
tion — the literature of Sedley and Saekville, of Con- 
greve and Wj^cherly, of Killigrew and Rochester — 
has gradually slipped out of sight, and is remembered 
merely for a few clever lyrics, and read only by those 
wdio are curious in the matter of old plays. The 
writings of the two Puritans, born in obscuinty and 
shadowed by contempt and defeat, have thriven and 
grown from their birth, and struck their roots deep 
down into the hearts of all English-speaking people, 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 11 

but the literature of the Restoration, brought forth in 
the sunshine of royal and court favor, has, with the 
exception of Dryden's poetry and Butler's " Hudi- 
bras," steadily declined in popular favor. The cause 
of this difference is not far to seek. The work of 
the Puritans was that of men who believed in a great 
cause ; and earnest genius is not found among the 
supporters of such a monarch as Charles, who repre- 
sented nothing but himself, was unutterably mean, and 
and was identified with a policy of which the most 
conspicuous quality was falsehood. In a society with 
such a head and in such a court, there could be no 
great literature ; no thoroughly fine genius could flour- 
ish or find an abiding-place among such surroundings. 
Successful Puritanism may have suppressed imagina- 
tive literature, but the Restoration had not the capacity 
to produce it. When Puritanism fell, the imaginative 
side of its character was no longer hidden and re- 
pressed, but found expression in the works of Milton 
and Bunyan. 

Charles and his court were not the whole of the 
Restoration period, but they were at once the most 
important and the worst part of it. The king and 
his courtiers and favorites were the men who set the 
fashion, who made vice the stamp of birth and breed- 
ing, who degraded England at home and abroad, and 
plotted for the return of a hated religion. The only 
real strength Charles possessed lay in a shrewd selfish- 
ness, which kept him from extremes, and which never 
lost sight of his one great aim, — never to go again 



12 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

upon his travels. The stupider and more honest 
James pushed openly the policy which Charles had 
carried on in the dark, and reaped the harvest which 
his brother had sown by being driven from his throne. 
In this miserable period improvement begins only 
as we descend in the scale of fashion, societ}'', and 
office. The narrow-minded cavalier Parliament, which 
sat so long, was finally so corrujjt, and which abused 
its power so grievously, was still a respectable body in 
comparison with the court faction. It was sound in a 
certain way, and had some redeeming traits. Charles, 
for instance, did not dare to let it know of his bargains 
with Louis ; for those little transactions would have 
cost him his crown, even with the adherents of Church 
and State. The cavalier Parliament was capable of 
the most unmanly vengeance upon its fallen foes, and 
indulged in virulent religious intolerance ; but it hated 
the papacy, and in the excitement of the popish plot 
were ready to go almost any lengths against the crown 
in defense of Protestantism. The royalist knights 
and squires could descend to the unspeakable mean- 
ness, to the pitiable revenge, of tearing up the grave 
of Oliver Cromwell, and placing the skull of the great- 
est ruler England ever had upon Temple Bar ; they 
could drag from their resting-place the bones of Rob- 
ert Blake, in whose lifetime no Dutch fleet would have 
burned shipping in the Thames : yet at the same time 
they were ready to give freely and fight bravely 
against England's enemies, and they would not, as a 
body, have sold their country as their long was doing. 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 13 

If we descend a step farther we come on the scat- 
tered strength of Puritanism, the great middle classes, 
— the tradesmen, the farmers, the gentry, and the 
dissenting clergy. They were beaten, broken, and 
groaning under the inflictions of the Test Act, the 
Five-Mile Act, and other similar laws ; many of their 
leaders had perished on the scaffold, others were in 
exile, fleeing through the hamlets of New England or 
sheltered among the mountains of the Swiss Republic ; 
yet their spirit was still the same. No people were 
ever put to a harder trial than tHey were when re- 
lieved from oppression by the royal suspension of the 
persecuting acts of Parliament. The device was a 
shrewd one, but it failed. The Puritans and the dis- 
senting sects preferred persecution by law to immun- 
ity secured by an unwarrantable stretch of the royal 
prerogative, and designed to open the door to the re- 
establishment of the Church of Rome. There are 
few acts in history more heroic than the quiet man- 
ner in which the English dissenters, without organiza- 
tion and without leaders, gave their support to the 
Parliament which persecuted them, and sustained 
hateful laws in opposition to the king, who, for pur- 
poses of his own, gave them illegal relief as a means 
of helping the papist cause. 

But from whatever point we approach the Restora- 
tion and study its features, the one ever - recurring 
problem is the position of the Puritans. Why were 
they an utterly beaten, broken, and helpless people ? 
Whatever their mistakes may have been, they had 



14 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

done great deeds. They had shattered Church and 
State ; they had fought and won innumerable battles ; 
they had produced some of the greatest statesmen and 
generals in English history ; they had raised England 
to a great place in the world, and had governed 
strongly and well. What had become of this power- 
ful body of men ? Where was the great country party 
of the Long Parliament ? Where were the soldiers 
who had stood silent before Charles on Blackheath ? 
They were in a numerical minority, no doubt, but 
they were strong enough to have drenched England in 
blood if they had been united ; and yet they did not 
have even the respect accorded to an opposition. 
They do not appear even as an opposition. They had 
no standing as a party, and no political power or in- 
fluence. They are heard of during the Restoration 
simply as the victims of persecuting acts. The con- 
trast between the Puritan party, at the death of Oliver 
and the Puritan party five years later is tremendous. 
It may be argued that this was simply the result of 
a crushing political defeat. But this theory falls to 
the ground if we examine the condition of the Puri- 
tan states beyond the Atlantic. In New England the 
Puritans had not been immediately touched by the 
Restoration. They had never leaned upon Cromwell 
for support but had always preserved a sturdy inde- 
pendence. They were too distant to feel the malign 
influences of the court or to suffer from the persecut- 
ing acts — and they had full control of the states 
which they had founded. Yet there is nevertheless 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 15 

a distinct decline in force among the New England 
Puritans during the period of the liestoration. The 
tone adopted toward Charles II. is very different from 
that employed with his father in the days when these 
flourishing colonies were feeble settlements. In Mas- 
sachusetts under the guidance of some of the old lead- 
ers the attempts of Charles to gain control were suc- 
cessfully and daringly defeated in the spirit of an 
earlier day, but at the same time a class of men was 
growing up even there in the midst of the most un- 
tainted Puritanism who were ready to betray their 
country to James and take advantage of the timidity 
which was spreading through the whole people. The 
condition of New England makes it manifest that the 
decline of the Puritans in power and energy was due 
to general and far-reaching cavises. 

The brief period of faction and turbulence which 
intervened between the Protectorate and the Restora- 
tion is no explanation. The state of the Puritan party 
under Charles, both in Old and New England, must 
find its causes much farther back and deeper down 
than in the weak government of Richard Cromwell, or 
the insurrections of Lambert and the Fifth-Monarchy 
men. The death of one man sufficed apparently to 
break the power of the Puritan party forever, and 
that fact in itself shows that the party as such must 
have been really ruined long before. The Puritans 
were the greatest political party England has ever pro- 
duced, and they fell more suddenly, and comjjletely, 
than any other party that ever existed. Once down, 



16 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

they never rose again. To find the trne explanation 
of this, it is necessary to go back to the meeting of 
the Long Parliament. When that famous body as- 
sembled the people were groaning under all sorts of 
oppression. The attemjit to convert the government 
of England into an absolute monarchy had failed, 
and the country party moved from one reform to an- 
other, with the irresistible force of the national will 
behind them. Hyde and Frankland united with Pym 
and Hampden in the redress of grievances. Then 
came a further step, — the Grand liemonstrance ; and 
after a heated contest, in which swords were drawn in 
the House of Commons, the Puritans prevailed, and 
the Long Parliament was divided into two parties. 
Hyde and Frankland and the moderate royalists 
parted company with the leaders of the country party. 
Then was the critical moment. It was possible to go 
on from the point which had been reached harmoni- 
ously and peacefully, and by the slow but sure j)roc- 
esses of political and constitutional growth. On the 
other hand, it was within the power of either party to 
take extreme measures, which would breed retaliation 
and chanQ^e reform to revolution. If Charles I. had 
frankly and honestly accepted the situation ; if he had 
formed his ministry of Hyde and Frankland and some 
of the more moderate Puritans and then acted in good 
faith, the great rebellion would never have been fought. 
But it was not in Charles, whose most conspicuous 
quality was falsehood, to behave honestly to any one. 
He deceived his friends and played into the hands of 



THE PURITANS AND THE RESTORATION. 17 

Ms enemies, and war became inevitable. Even dur- 
ing tbe civil war the course of events might have been 
arrested, but at every point Charles's character stood 
in the way and was an insuperable obstacle. If a rev- 
olution is once started, it is very easy to push it from 
one extreme to another, until it has gone so far that 
retreat, or even a halt, is impossible ; and the charac- 
ter of one man, if that man happens to be a king, is 
sufficient to exercise a controlling influence. So it was 
with Charles I. He persisted in extreme measures 
and in trickery and fraud, until he was brought to the 
block, and the last links which bound people to the 
past were hopelessly severed. A large body of men 
had been forced into a position from which they could 
not retreat and which they could not hold. They were 
obliged to advance and so the inevitable process went 
on, — reform, revolution, extreme measures, the sepa- 
ration from the moderate royalists, the separation from 
the Presbyterians and moderate Puritans, unsettled 
government, faction, turbulence, a wild demand for 
order, and at last the savior of society at the head 
of the army. Then came the efforts of the party of 
order, a small party of extreme men, who were the 
strongest and most determined of their time, to bring 
the nation over to their side, and to make the system 
which they had set up acceptable to all. The story of 
Cromwell's failures in this direction is familiar ; yet 
if he could have had twenty years more of life, if he 
had been dealing with a different race, he might have 
succeeded. As it was, he transmitted his power undi- 

2 



18 STUDIES IX HISTORY. 

minished. Richard Cromwell was proclaimed every- 
where in England and in tlie colonies, and was ac- 
cepted withont a murmur : but the sceptre had fallen 
into nerveless hands before the new order of tilings 
was fairly established, and the work of the great Pro- 
tector was undone. The country relapsed at once into 
the period of faction and turbulence from which it 
had begTin to emerge. Again the irresistible cry for 
order and for a savior of society was heard, but there 
was no CTomwell to respond. There was the army as 
before, but its leader was Monk. Two paths to order 
are open after revolution has reached tlie stage of 
chaos : one is through despotism, through the ride of 
the strong leader generated by the times : the other 
is through reaction and a return to the old system. 
England had tried the first, and failed. The second 
was then alone possible : and Monk, at the head of 
the Puritan army, restored Charles. At first matters 
moved slowly, but with a constantly aocelerating pace 
until after Charles had actually landed, and then the 
reaction swept over the whole land. There was a new 
party of order, and this time they had the nation with 
them. 

We have already glanced at the wretched period 
that followed. Meanness, tyranny, immorality, — all 
these the country bore with in patience for the sake 
of peac« ; but when defeat by foreign enemies and 
consequent disgrace ensued, even the overmastering 
love of order could not stifle the recollection of the 
glorious period which had departed. Curses were 



THE PCBJTAyS ASD THE EESTOEATIOy, 15 

nattered a^ansk tii» Coort. a^ a&er lie Dotek kid 
been m tdie Thame* ^^PS* wisest z ^Jtm 'stxatrn^ kosr 
ererrfwdb- do B6>v^-»4aj9 lefleec «|)o« O^cr aad €«»- 
■Knd ^^ wiet b?s7^ dmig^fe £d. aad iiiir aB tibe 
ad^jioar |»ii i ti»is feat lamf Tbej lad ^!»1 rtaeem 
to teOedt vpoB C^er : Inrt k w:» too late, aad Aej 
were pniag tike hearr peaakr wiaA reaetiam. ami. 
wstaration akwaj3 hamg t» ibose iA» faH to mstA. 
fmok rtfwifati aa t^ apportindcs k gH«s, wideii aee 
90 fikde oderstood at tke imiial. aad pa» avar 9f> 
B9idlfaadiRrro»l^. Thece w» ao »e ia ^iag 
for (Mireru The gxeat partr vUc^ fcad ^aeed Ub 
over its aaaaes had go m e topieeeg. W ks ova esBeesses 
aad qoaireis. lidEoce lie obtameA iwgiriiae cwattid . 
Hie Froteetorate was tfe eadof tJbe Panta a potf, 
aad unless CxoBEweH eoold iKnre drrelsfed a aew sb^ 
der ihe okdorderwas bond to eamte hoA. aad if it 
did Ase was BO Pantaa paitrto eaafra a t k. The 
Furilaii noreiBeBt eahHaated ia lAe erril wmu It 
had Seae ha woA, aad mdess it eooid de^n^op a aew, 
moderate, aad jet Thomas ^rstesL k was sare to 
peii^ aader adwerstw. The iafe<HWftj> of die Ijomg 
Paifiane^ aad lAe r^j^Som was sdf-^akgd. aad 
somelMa^ had to he feoad to take its plae& The 
PeiitaBs eooJd Bot keep up tke aawcawu it wkiek kad 
bometken to power, and tkej hsied to Smd a safe- 
ititote. Ia Xew Fnglaad tker p«t tkeir tkeooes mto 
psaetieal opetatioa aad tried tibesr espaxBeat faBj, 
and jet even tkere Pansani^ sask a&o- tke dea£k c^ 
Cifxawell, mace skiwlj it is ferae, kot jast as sbe^j as 



20 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

it did in England beneath the poisonous influence of 
Charles, the oppression of the cavalier Parliament, 
and the heavy hand of James. 

But because Puritanism failed to establish a new 
system, because the Puritan party was wrecked, it is 
of course a grievous mistake to suppose that their 
work and their existence had been failures. They 
had cut loose from the past irrevocably. No reaction 
could put Charles II. in the place occupied by his 
father. The Puritans had fought the great rebellion 
and opened a new era in English history, and the 
work they had performed made the revolution which 
overthrew James a certainty and a necessity. To 
them England owes the constitutional monarchy, which 
might have come under Charles I. without bloodshed, 
and which did come under William III., after two 
civil wars. They left an impress upon the constitu- 
tion, and upon society, politics, and popular thought 
which centuries have not been able to efface. But all 
this they did not see and could not know. They sank 
under the Restoration, broken, dispirited, oppressed. 
Yet in the midst of ruin and defeat, when it was de- 
spised and rejected of men, the genius of Puritanism 
rose strong and clear, and John Milton gave to the 
world his immortal epic, — a last victory and a fit 
close to the career of a party which had wrought such 
wonderful works and which had shaped the destiny of 
nations. 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 



Theee are two kinds of history — one written by- 
historians and antiquarians, the other by the poet, the 
dramatist, or the novelist. The latter seize the spirit 
and the essential truth of the past age and often pre- 
sent it, if not so accurately, more impressively and 
with more realistic force than any one else. Who 
can doubt that the kings and queens, the lords and 
commons of England thought and acted and appeared 
as Shakespeare says they did ? Tt is a constant source 
of surprise not to find the speeches which the poet has 
put into their mouths recorded in the national ar- 
chives, and duly confirmed by unimpeachable contem- 
porary documents. So, in New England, the history 
with which we are most familiar is that accordino- to 
Nathaniel Hawthorne. Now dark and sombre, now 
warm and full of sunlight, always picturesque and 
imaginative, the story of the past, disconnected, and 
uncertain, but yet vivid and real, has been woven by 
the hand of the enchanter to charm and fascinate all 
who listen. In Hawthorne's pages the ancient Puri- 
tan society, austere and rigid, and the later colonial 
aristocracy, laced and powdered, live and move, a de- 
light to the present generation. But over all alike, 
over grave and gay, over the forbidding and the at- 



22 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tractive, the delicate and morbid genius of the novelist 
has cast an air of mystery. In these stories we live 
in an atmosphere of half-told secrets, which are withal 
so real that we cannot help believing that somewhere, 
in some musty records or in letters yellow with time, 
we shall find answers to the questionings with which 
they fill our minds. Surely there must have been 
some one who had peeped beneath the black veil, who 
had known Maule and the Pyncheons, who had seen 
the prophetic pictures, who could tell us what the lit- 
tle world of Boston said about Hester Prynne and lit- 
tle Pearl, about Arthur Dimmesdale and Roger Chil- 
lingworth. One cannot help looking on every page 
of New England history for the characters of Plaw- 
thorne, and for an explanation of their lives. Disap-v 
pointment always ensues, but liojDe is revived with 
each old manuscript that finds its way into print. 
This is especially the case with the Sewall diary,^ the 
publication of which has at last been completed by 
the Massachusetts Historical Society and which con- 
stitutes the most important work of original authority 
in the whole range of New England history. Its exist- 
ence has long been known, and historians have occa- 
sionally drawn upon its stores for evidence of isolated 
facts. But for the most part, even those who knew 
anything about it were only aware that it covered a 
long period in New England history, was written by 
a man of social and political eminence, and was rich 

1 The Sewall Diary. Collections of the Massachusetts His- 
torical Society, Fifth Series, vols, v., vi., aud vii. 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 23 

in details of daily life and personal experience. This 
long- record of more than half a century covers a 
large part of the history of Massachusetts prior to 
the Revolution. The period embraced in the diary 
was, at first, one of great political change, and after- 
wards of profound repose ; and it is to this time that 
most of the traditions and doubtful stories of early 
New England belong. The last, the most important, 
and the most personal of all the historical documents 
of the time, the Sewall diary, has gradually drawn to 
itself the mystery and secrecy which Hawthorne im- 
parted to the early history of Massachusetts. In a 
work so extensive, so minute, so long hidden from the 
public eye, it seemed as if the curiosity awakened by 
the great story-teller must be satisfied. One could 
not help feeling that in this very journal, perhaps, 
Hawthorne discovered strange traditions and dark 
suggestions, and found, in the exact description of the 
unimaginative diarist, models for his own wonderful 
pictures of the past. Such a fancy unfortunately 
fades away as we read the printed pages. Hawthorne 
had no " authorities," and we are fain to be content 
with the belief that he was not able to solve his own 
riddles. We open the handsome and carefully edited 
volumes and drop at once into the region of fact. 
Yet there is one great question which the diary can 
answer. From the multitudinous minutes of the 
worthy judge, we are able to extract material for a 
tolerably accurate picture of the men and the society 
depicted by the genius of Hawthorne. 



24 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Henry Sewall, grandson to one of the same name 
who was Mayor of Coventry in Elizabeth's time, came 
to Massachusetts in the first Puritan emigration, mar- 
ried there and returned to England, where, in 1652, 
his son Samuel, the author of the diary, was born. 
In 1661 Samuel Sewall returned to New En2:land 
with his mother, and in 1668 entered Harvard Col- 
lege, where he graduated in due course in 1671. The 
Sewall family belonged to that important class of land- 
holding Puritan gentry which furnished leaders for 
the famous " country party," and which numbered 
among its representatives Oliver Cromwell and John 
Hampden. The Sewalls were evidently people of con- 
sideration, and owned estates in England, to the dis- 
position of which the diarist makes frequent allusions. 

I have called Samuel Sewall " A Puritan Pepys," 
and the description is by no means so fanciful as 
might be supposed. From the fact that they were 
in a measure contemporary, a comj)arison of the two 
diarists is obvious, but the first impression is of the 
strange contrast between them rather than of any 
similarity. Pepys was twenty years older than Sew- 
all, and his diary ceases nearly six years before that 
of the latter begins. Pepys lived in London, the 
gi'eat metropolis of a great nation. He was a gay 
man of the world and also a man of affairs, an active 
politician, an office-holder, a member of Parliament, 
and a courtier. He was a constant attendant at the 
play, went assiduously into the fashionable world, de- 
lighted to note the appearance of the King's many 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 25 

mistresses, was versed in all the current scandal, loved 
the other sex not wisely but too well, and was, in 
short, a man about town in a licentious society and 
frivolous age. At the same time, Pepys played his 
part on a greater stage. He was a somewhat conspic- 
uous figure in the history of England at an important 
period. He was connected with weighty affairs of 
state, and prospered by the favor and suffered from 
the enmity of kings. Our Massachusetts diarist, on 
the other hand, lived in a small towni in a remote col- 
ony. He had no amusements, even had he desired 
them, and passed his life in the cares of business and 
of religion. An active public man, the affairs with 
which he was constantly engaged rarely rose to more 
than local interest ; the society in which he moved 
was rigid and austere, and the monotony of existence 
must have been intense. 

Yet, after all, between the gay politician of the 
Restoration and the grave Puritan judge there is a 
marked and interesting likeness- Possibly certain 
fixed qualities of mind and character must be com- 
mon to all good diarists, but, however this may be, if 
Pepys had been brought up as a Puritan and lived 
in New England, one cannot help thinking that he 
would have been much like Sewall. 

Beneath the superficial differences we can find the 
deep resemblances. Pepys, in an irreligious and de- 
bauched society, was a good churchman and punctual 
in the performance of his religious duty ; and religion, 
although of a widely different type, was, of course, 



26 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the engrossing thought of Sewall. Both were fond 
of gossip, good observers, patient, industrious, and of 
moderate dispositions. Pepys had a strong sense of 
what was right, but the worldly side was uppermost 
always. The religious element preponderated with 
Sewall, but he too had a keen sense of worldly ad- 
vantages which crops out constantly and in a most 
incongruous fashion. Pepys, as I have said, was fond 
of the other sex, and the animal instincts in his na- 
ture were checked only by his extreme prudence. It 
is curious to observe the same cautious disposition in 
Sewall, which, taken with the overpowering religious 
influence, would seem sufficient to have extinguished 
all grosser passions. Yet the sensual qualities were 
only repressed. They break out strangely now and 
then through the iron bonds of Puritanism, and espe- 
cially in the courtships of the more than middle-aged 
man after the death of his first wife. They were both 
also good public servants, upright and faithful, and 
they had strong literary tastes, and each in his way 
was a scholar, student, and lover of books. 

But wholly apart from historical considerations, it 
is the strong personal quality which has made Pepys 
the most amusing and enduring of diarists. We read 
in his pages the whole history of a human heart. 
Nothing about himself is too trifling to be noticed, and 
this is the very thing which makes the book a delight 
and gives it the immortality which all true pictures of 
human nature obtain. To write a diary of this sort 
requires frank vanity and perfect honesty. These es- 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 27 

sential qualities Pepys and Sewall have in common, 
and therefore they are profoundly similar. Neither 
ever tired of talking about his own affairs, and while 
he depicts the life about him, draws a still more vivid 
picture of himself. There is more, much more, of 
general value, of course, in Pepys than in Sewall ; but 
after throwing aside from the latter the mass of trivi- 
alities which are necessarily recorded, we find in him, 
as in his English contemporary, a similar tale of hu- 
man experience which, well and frankly told, must 
always have an undying and universal interest. 

In one important respect Sewall has been more for- 
tunate than Pepys, who has suffered grievous things 
from his translators and editors. To publish an ex- 
purgated edition of the latter was very well perhaps, 
but to go deliberately to work and print a second edi- 
tion fuller and more elaborate than the first, and yet 
not complete, was stupid in the highest degree. Pepys 
is not intended for Sunday-schools, but he is a great 
historical authority. The most honest of writers, both 
he and his public are entitled to an absolutely perfect 
transcript of his diary, and those who are too deli- 
cate to read it can buy a modified version. Unluckily 
the last expurgator has probably prevented a com- 
plete edition for many years to come. Sewall, on the 
contrary, has been blessed with honest as well as 
learned editors. Only one trifling passage has been 
suppressed, and the whole story is before us to do with 
and judge of as we list. 

The diary begins in 1674. At that time Massachu- 



28 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

setts was still under tlie independent government 
framed by the founders. She was still the free Puri- 
tan Commonwealth conducted according to the Puritan 
theory of an indivisible church and state, where the 
test of citizenship was godliness. Scarcely ten years 
had elapsed since her bold and sagacious magistrates 
had driven the meddling commissioners of the King 
of England from her borders. But time and delay, 
which had worked with Massachusetts against Charles 
I., and finally gave her victory, had a precisely ojipo- 
site result in the contest with Charles II. The scourge 
of Indian hostility had fallen upon the Commonwealth 
and was draining her resources. Philip's war broke 
out in 1675, and Sewall records many massacres and 
surprises, "lamentable fights and formidable engage- 
ments," and notes in a matter-of-fact way repeated ex- 
ecutions of Indian prisoners on Boston Common. The 
Puritans were slow to anger, but when aroused by In- 
dian atrocities they waged war upon the savages with 
the persistence, the merciless thoroughness, and the 
calm determination which was peculiar to their race 
and creed. Samuel Sewall was a man of gentle and 
peaceable nature, but he writes in 1676, " As to our 
enemies, God hath in a great measure given us to see 
ovir desire on them. Most ringleaders in the late mas- 
sacre have themselves had blood to drink, ending their 
lives by bullets and halters." After making due al- 
lowance for the phrase of an elder day, there still re- 
mains a certain fierceness in this expression, and yet 
it would be unjust to attribute it to a mere spirit of 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 29 

vindictive exaltation. The words are typical of the 
men. Their enemies were God's enemies, and they 
were themselves the chosen instruments of Divine ven- 
geance. Such words from such a man show the stern 
character which rendered the Puritans invincible and 
which, in the performance of duty, made them ready 
to march through slaughter even to the throne. 

But besides the exhaustion produced by this war, 
other causes were at work in Massachusetts which 
destroyed her independence and brought the great 
Puritan experiment to ruin. Wealth had increased, 
and a timid, conservative class had grown up who 
were not ready, like their ancestors, to take to the 
woods rather than submit to the Stuart. A liberal 
but at the same time debilitating spirit was creeping 
into the church, as was shown by the failing strength 
of the once all-powerful clergy. The systems of church 
and state were breaking down together. The for- 
mer made a more prolonged struggle than the latter 
to maintain itself, as was apparent in the witchcraft 
excitement, and in the desperate effort to retain con- 
trol of the college. But all was in vain, and while 
it was thus weakened at home the cause of the New 
England Puritan was hopeless abroad. There was no 
longer a great party in sympathy with them in the 
mother country and master of the government. Their 
friends in England were beaten, broken, and dispir- 
ited, and their owai success in settling the new country 
drew upon them the attention of the ministry. In 
1674 Randolph was already at work, and the train 



30 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

was laid which in a few years shattered the beloved 
charter government. Conservatism and timidity soon 
changed under the influence of external power into 
division and discord, and the people of Massachusetts 
no longer presented a united front to the royal power. 
A set of men became prominent who were trusted by 
the people, and were ready to betray them and become 
the servants of England. To this new party of pre- 
rogative and submission the government of Massachu- 
setts was committed after the dissolution of the char- 
ter. Then followed the stujjid and oppressive policy 
of James II., the revolt against Andros, and the ap- 
parent recovery of the old liberties. But the appear- 
ance was deceptive. The spell was broken, the Pui'i- 
tan Commonwealth, as it had been designed by its 
founders, perished with the charter and could not be 
revived. After a few faint efforts, Massachusetts re- 
lapsed into the commonplace and fairly liberal provin- 
cial government accorded her by William of Orange. 
Sewall's diary begins when the government of the 
founders still prevailed, and was in seeming as strong 
and vigorous as ever. It comes down through tlie suc- 
ceeding years of rapid transition, and ends when the 
provincial system had been long established. The 
colonial period is dark and forbidding, though not 
without a gloomy picturesqueness, and is elevated and 
honored by the high aims and great objects of its act- 
ors. But it is stern and cold like the New England 
winter, and we turn from it with a certain feeling of re- 
lief to the baser provincial period of petty interests and 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 31 

material wealth. If the former resembles New Eng- 
land's winter, the latter suggests its summer. There 
is warmth and light and the repose of a summer's 
day about the provincial times. There were no great 
questions then and no great struggles, only a complete 
and unambitious quiet. We think of the people at 
that time as living in romantic old houses with seven 
gables, and basking in the sunshine at their doors and 
in their pleasant gardens, their sole interests being the 
affairs of the jieaceful villages, to which the confused 
noises of the great world came only in distant mur- 
murs. The historical and social temperature of Sew- 
all's diary varies, therefore, considerably. The first 
volume, beginning in the colonial period, covers the 
loss of the charter, the rapid changes which followed, 
and concludes with the establishment of the new sys- 
tem. The two last volumes give the most perfect pic- 
ture that we possess of Massachusetts under the pro- 
vincial government, opening in the reign of William 
III. and closing some years after the accession of 
George 11. Politically, therefore, the first volume 
possesses a greater interest than either of its succes- 
sors. But its chief value in this respect is in the knowl- 
edge we obtain of the character of the writer, because 
we there find the clew to the unsuccessful and feeble 
resistance offered by Massachusetts to the second at- 
tack upon her charter. Sewall was a representative of 
the most devout English Puritans, but he was of a 
submissive, not an aggressive temper. He was hon- 
estly attached to the old church and state government 



32 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

of the early settlers. His political and religious prin- 
ciples were thoroughly Puritan, and he had an almost 
morbid dislike of innovations of all sorts. He became 
at an early period a deputy and then a magistrate 
under the old charter government, and he sadly records 
the events which led to its destruction. But it seems 
never to have occurred to him to oppose a vigorous 
resistance to the encroachments of the royal power. 
He bowed before the storm, accepted the loss of the 
charter as inevitable, mourned in silence the death of 
the old system, and took office under the new govern- 
ments that followed in rapid succession. He was not 
one of the small minority who would have resisted to 
the bitter end, still less did he belong to the party of 
the crown. He represented the great intermediate 
body of the people, whose action was decisive, and 
who, while they clung affectionately to the traditions 
of their fathers, were not ready to oppose any effectual 
resistance to the ministerial policy. The character and 
behavior of Sewall and men like him were the prevail- 
ing cause of the overthrow of the charter government. 
It was to such men that the success of the crown and 
of Joseph Dudley and his faction must be wholly at- 
tributed. But it is not proper on this account to cen- 
sure Sewall and the mass of the New England peoj^le 
who thought as he did. Times had changed, and men 
are to a great extent the creatures of the period in 
which they live. The terrible spirit which carried the 
Puritan armies in triumph from the field of INIarston 
Moor to the "crowning mercy" at Worcester had 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 33 

passed away in England, and Oliver Cromwell had 
been sncceeded by the most contemptible of the 
Stnarts. In a similar fashion the spirit which had 
rent St. George's cross from the flag because it was an 
emblem of idolatry, and which had nerved a new and 
feeble colony to do battle with England, was nearly 
extinct in Massachusetts. The great movement of the 
seventeenth century had spent its force. Prosperity 
and material well-being, the acquisition of property, 
the establishment of society, and radical changes at 
home and abroad had done their work. The stern and 
daring fathers were Succeeded by gentler and more 
timid sons. The Puritan experiment was doomed, and 
in every entry of Se wall's diary, in every feature of 
his character, we see the causes of the fall of the Puri- 
tan Commonwealth, of the elevation of Dudley, and of 
the subsequent successful establishment of a dependent 
provincial government. 

But as has already been said, this journal acquires 
its deepest interest from the picture of a past society, 
and of forgotten manners and modes of thought which 
it presents. Sewall had been nearly three years out 
of college when he began his diary. He was still, 
however, a resident fellow attached to the college, and 
performed various duties, for which he was duly remu- 
nerated. His principal business was to be " common- 
placed," or, in other words, to deliver religious dis- 
courses to the students, a task in the highest degree 
congenial to him, especially as he then contemplated 
becoming a minister. 

3 



34 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

The following entry gives a good idea of the nature 
of college offenses, and the methods of discipline in 
vogue in 1674, when Sevvall began his diary, and had 
not yet ventured out into the world : — 

" Thomas Sargeant was examined by the Corpora- 
tion. Finally, the advice of Mr. Danf orth, Mr. Stough- 
ton, Mr. Thatcher, Mr. Mather (then present) was 
taken. This was his sentence : ' That being convicted 
of speaking blasphemous words concerning the H. G. 
he should be therefore publickly whipped before all 
the Scholars. 2. That he should be suspended as to 
taking his degree of Bachelour (this sentence read be- 
fore him twice at the Prts. before the committee, and 
in the library I up before execution.) 3. Sit alone 
by himself in the Hall uncovered at meals, during 
the pleasure of the President and Fellows, and be 
in all things obedient, doing what exercises as ap- 
pointed him by the President, or else be finally ex- 
pelled the Colledge. The first was presently jjut in 
execution in the Library (Mr. Danforth, Jr., being 
present) before the Scholars. He kneeled down, and 
the instrument Goodman Hely attended the Presi- 
dent's word as to the performance of his part in the 
work. Prayer was had before and after by the Pres- 
ident.' " 

The ludicrous contrast between the " Colledge " of 
1674 and the great University of the present day is 
obvious enough, and constitutes perhaps the chief in- 
terest of the passage. But if we look a little more 
closely, we find that this apparently trivial entry ex- 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 35 

hiblts the great characteristic which marked English 
Puritanism in the Old World and the New, and which 
divides it by an impassable barrier from our modern 
life. This is the religious element. The offense was 
one against religion, and both before and after the boy 
was birched prayer was offered, and inspiration sought. 
Thus it is throughout the diary, and the religious tone 
gives to the whole book its principal psychological 
and historic interest. The fact that the great tide of 
religious feeling which had swept over England had 
now begun to ebb, is in itself an advantage to the stu- 
dent of Puritan doctrines and spiritual thought. The 
fierce, proselyting, fanatic spirit which had raged like 
a tornado, and had laid government and churches pros- 
trate, was no more. The sword had fallen from the 
hand of the Puritan, the aggressive qualities of his 
belief had passed away, and only the faith itself re- 
mained. War, conquest, the extirpation of the ene- 
mies of the Lord and the stern exercise of power went 
hand in hand with the religion of Cromwell and his 
soldiers ; but all these terrible and absorbing interests 
died with the great Protector. The Puritan of 1675 
was occupied only by the religious faith of the Puri- 
tan of 1650 ; and, divested of outside and exciting in- 
fluences, the religion of the Puritans can be much 
better understood and appreciated. This was partic- 
ularly true of New England, where the reaction pro- 
duced by the Restoration had not yet made itself felt. 
Religious Puritanism existed in Massachusetts in full 
force at the close of the seventeenth century, although 



36 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the Puritanism of the soldier and the politician had 
departed. It is true the religious fervor also was be- 
ginning to decline, but as the fabric goes to pieces we 
are enabled to analyze the material with which it had 
been built up. Judge Sewall himself was, moreover, 
an admirable exponent of the Puritan character at 
this period. Fortunately for our purpose he was not 
a minister, but he was a more than commonly devout, 
earnest, and conscientious layman in a deeply religious 
community. The workings of his mind are therefore 
most interesting, and as he notes with sorrow the grad- 
ual decay of religious observances, and clutches des- 
perately at principles and practices which were fast 
falling into disuse, the minutest details of the Puritan 
system pass before our eyes, and the whole structure 
of their religion and their course of thought are ex- 
posed. 

It is hardly necessary to say that such religious faith 
no longer exists. There is now plenty of honest and 
liberal Christianity, of mild-eyed devotion, of enfee- 
bling superstition, but the religion of Puritan Eng- 
lishmen is entirely gone. We have nothing like it ; 
we can find no present parallel ; we can with diffi- 
culty form an accurate conception of what it was. To 
the Puritan, religion was a stern, terrible, and ever- 
present reality, a great moving force. It was never 
absent from his mind. It inspired his loftiest ac- 
tions, and sanctified the greatest events ; yet at the 
same time no incident of daily life was so mean or 
trivial as not to suggest holy thoughts and lead to 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 37 

communiou with God. On the bleak and thinly set- 
tled shores of New England, religion was the source 
of every joy, and offered the only intellectual excite- 
ment which the people either knew or desired. Yet 
they were withal eminently practical men. They 
'were not slothful in business, because they were fer- 
vent in spirit. Persistence, work, success, prosperity, 
material well-being, and social respectability their re- 
ligion taught them to regard as among the highest 
duties and most valuable possessions. Thus they tri- 
umphed over natural difficulties, as they had prevailed 
over armies, while in every circumstance and relation 
of life, religion pervaded all thought and action. It 
was a harsh and gloomy, perhaps a repulsive faith, but 
vigorous, real, and uncompromising to a degree which 
the world now can hardly imagine. 

Sewall had a strong desire to be a minister, and 
such was for some years after leaving college his in- 
tention. He studied with that view and even essayed 
to preach. "April 4, Sab. day. I help preach for 
my master (Mr. Parker) in the afternoon. Being- 
afraid to look on the glass, ignorantly and unwillingly 
I stood two hours and a half." Want of matter cer- 
tainly could not have been Sewall's failing, but for 
some unexplained reason he finally abandoned his pur- 
pose, though he always retained some of the habits 
contracted at this time. Many volumes of notes from 
the sermons which he heard still exist. He was very 
fond of theological discussions, of turning dreams into 
parables and of moralizing upon every conceivable topic, 



38 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

and he was also the author of a learned work, bearing 
the appalling title of " Phenomena Apocalyptical 
During the period of indecision which preceded his 
choice of a profession, Sewall was in a state of deep 
religious distress and doubt. November 11, 1675, he 
writes: " Morning proper fair ; the weather exceeding 
benign, but (to me) metaphor ic, dismal, dark and 
portentous, some prodegie appearing in every corner 
of the skies." This condition of mind endured for 
some years, for even as late as 1677 he wrote that he 
was under " great exercise of mind with regard to his 
spiritual estate." It finally wore off, however, and he 
settled down into merely an unusually religious lay- 
man. There was a passing struggle on the question 
of his joining the Old South Church, but with that 
exception this phase of religious uncertainty never re- 
turned. The most curious and interesting feature of 
the book, and one which is perfectly unvarying, is the 
religious thought and expression called forth by every 
trifling event. Examples might be multijDlied, but a 
few will suffice to show a habit of mind which is now 
as utterly extinct as the mastodon or the icthyosaurus. 

"Jan. 13, 1676-7. Giving my chickens meat, it 
came to my mind that I gave them nothing save In- 
dian corn and water, and yet they eat it and thrived 
very well, and that that food was necessary for them, 
how mean soever, which much affected me and con- 
vinced what need I stood in of spiritual food, and that 
I should not nauseate daily duties of Prayer, &c. 

" * * * * Just before I went, Brother Longfel- 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 39 

low came in, which was some exercise to me, he being 
so ill conditioned and so outwardly shabby. The Lord 
hmnble me. As I remember, he came so before ; 
either upon the funeral of my Father or Johny." 

The connection of ideas in the following passage, 
however, is as remarkable as any in the diary. A 
stranger text than baked pigeons could not readily be 
found, and the " wisdom of the serpent " can only be 
referred to his own shift to get a dinner. 

" Jidy 25, 1699. "When I came home Sam, Hauah 
and Joana being gon to Dorchester with Madam 
Usher to the Lecture, I found the House empty and 
Lock'd. Taking the key I came in and made a shift 
to find a solitary diner of bak'd Pigeons and a piece 
of Cake. How hapy I were, if I could once become 
wise as a Serpent and harmless as a Dove ! " 

Anytliing physical was sure to be given a spiritual 
application. We find an example of this habit in the 
following entry : — 

" Dec. 30. 1702. I was weighed in Col. Byfield's 
scales : weight one hundred one half one quarter want- 
ing 3 pounds i. e. 193 pounds Net. Col. Byfield 
weighed sixty three pounds more than I : had only my 
close coat on. The Lord add, or take away from this 
our corporeal weight, so as shall be most advantagious 
for our Spiritual growth." 

A few years later Sewall was the victim of a rob- 
bery, and both his narration of the incident and the 
impression it made upon him are highly characteristic. 

" Lord's Day, June 15th, 1707. I felt myself dull 



40 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

and heavy and listless as to Sisiritual Good ; Carnal, 
Lifeless ; I sigh'd to God, that he would quicken 
me." 

" June 16. My House was broken open in two places 
and about Twenty pounds worth of plate Stolen away 
and some linen : My Spoon, and knife, and Neckcloth 
was taken: I said. Is not this an answer of Prayer? 
Jane came up, and gave vis the Alarm betime in the 
morn. I was helped to submit to Christ's stroke, and 
Say, Wellcome Christ." 

June 19th the " measuring bason" was recovered, and 
the receiver, a woman, was taken and put in prison. 
Two days later a shop was entered and the thief, who 
had also robbed Sewall, was captured, whereupon the 
diary says : " At night I read out of Caryl on Job, 5. 
2. The humble submission to the Stroke of God, 
turns in to a Ii-iss — which I thank God, I have in 
this instance experienced. Laus Deo^ There is no 
indication that he recovered his property, and we are 
forced to conclude that the " Kiss of God " in this in- 
stance was the prompt capture and imprisonment of 
both thief and receiver. 

Some years afterwards his daughter Hannah, who 
not long before had sustained a painful fall, fell again 
and injured herself still more severely. Sewall thus 
narrates the occurrence, under date of " Satterday, 
July 2. When I got home was grievously surpris'd 
to find Hanah fallen down the stairs again, the Rotula 
of he Left Knee broken, as the other was ; and a 
great Gash cut across he Right Legg just below the 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 41 

Knee which were fain to stitch. Much blood issued 
out. The Lord Sanctify this Smarting Rod to me, 
and mine ! This cloud returning after the Rain ! 
Broke her Right Knee-pan the fifth of August, 1714." 

This constant moralizing upon the most trivial as 
well as the gravest events, and this unceasing flow of 
religious thought, bore with peculiar severity upon the 
children of the community. The utter grimness of 
the thorouo'h Eng-lish Puritanism comes out with full 
force in such a passage as the following : — 

" Sabbath, Jan. 12. Richard Dumer, a flourishing 
youth of 9 years, dies of the Small Pocks. I tell Sam. 
of it and what need he had to prepare for Death, and 
therefore to endeavour really to pray when he said 
over the Lord's Prayer : He seem'd not much to mind, 
eating an Aple ; but when he came to say, Our father, 
he burst out into a bitter Cry, and when I askt what 
was the matter, and he could speak, he burst into a 
bitter Cry, and said he was afraid he should die. I 
pray'd with him, and read Scriptures comforting 
against death, as O death where is thy sting, &c. All 
things yours. Life and Immortality brought to light 
by Christ, &c. 'Twas at noon." 

Having frightened his boy most terribly, by con- 
vincing him of the near prospect of death, Sewall's 
only idea of comforting and restoring the child was to 
read a selection of very grand and very solemn texts. 
This conduct, however, was quite in keeping with 
the literature provided for children. The Reverend 
Michael Wiggiesworth, a distinguished divine in early 



42 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

New England, was also a poet, if we may so term tlie 
author of a vast quantity of harsh, unmusical, and 
dreary verse. His most valued and popular produc- 
tion was entitled " The Day of Doom," which was re- 
peatedly published in convenient form for the especial 
use and behoof of the children of the community. 
One stanza, describing the fate of sinners, will suffi- 
ciently characterize the mental food prepared for the 
young people of New England at the beginning of the 
eighteenth century : — 

" Die faiu tliey would, if die they could, 
But death will not be had ; 
God's direful wrath their bodies hath 
Forever immortal made. 
They live to lie in misery 
And bear eternal woe ; 
And live they must whilst God is just, 
That he may plague them so." 

Nothing is more striking, in a statistical point of 
view, than the enormous infant mortality of early New 
England. Nature enforced in the most rigid way the 
system of selection, and the extremely tough fibre of 
the New England people is undoubtedly due to this 
unrelenting application of the principle of the survival 
of the fittest. When one finds such literature as the 
" Day of Doom " particularly reserved for the children, 
it is impossible to avoid the thought that the mental 
gloom of Puritan childhood must have efficiently aided 
the climate and the inevitable exposure in destroying 
all the feeble offspring of this stern and hardy race. 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 43 

The natural vigor of body and mind must have indeed 
been great in order to withstand such a combination 
of adverse influences in the tender years of childhood. 
In fact Sewall himself, despite great affection, seems 
to have regarded his offspring chiefly as conspicuous 
and instructive examples of original sin, as we may 
see by this entry : — 

" Nov. 6. Joseph threw a knop of Brass and hit 
his Sister Betty on the forhead so as to make it bleed 
and swell ; upon which, and for his playing at Prayer- 
time, and eating when Return Thanks, I whipd him 
pretty smartly. When I first went in (call'd by his 
Grandmother) he sought to shadow and hide himself 
from me behind the head of the Cradle ; which gave 
me the sorrowfuU remembrance of Adam's carriage." 

As in the petty incidents of domestic affairs, so it 
was in the graver events of both public and private 
life. In all alike there is the same ever-present 
thought of communion with God and of learning to 
serve Him, and draw sjjiritual instruction from every- 
thing that befell either the individual or the state. In 
cases of sickness or death a private fast was held, and 
the relatives and intimate friends gathered in the af- 
flicted house to pray. If doubts and darkness envel- 
oped the course of public affairs the whole community 
met together to fast and pray, and listen to the exhor- 
tations of the ministers, and when the hand of power 
began to weigh upon New England, Sewall prayed 
not merely that oppression might be lightened but 
that this trial might be sanctified to them, and that 



44 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

they might gather from it the teaching of the Al- 
mighty. It was also the custom among the more 
devout if not among all classes, to set apart certain 
days for private fasting and prayer, without reference 
to any particular event. This was Sewall's habit, and 
there are constant allusions to setting aside a day and 
shutting himself up in his house for prayer and relig- 
ious meditation. In the following curious passage we 
get a glimpse of the variety and extent of Puritan 
prayer, and also of the touch of superstition in their 
character which is likewise so marked in the attention 
paid to dreams throughout the diary. 

" Feb. 21, 1702. Capt. Tim°. Clark tells me that 
a line drawn to the Comet strikes just upon Mexico, 
sj^ake of a Revolution there, how great a thing it 
would be. Said one Whitehead told him of the mag- 
nificence of the City, that there were in it 1500 
Coaches drawn with Mules. This Blaze had put me 
much in mind of Mexico ; because we must look 
toward Mexico to view it. Capt. Clark drew a line 
on his Globe. Our thoughts being thus confer'd, and 
found to jump, makes it to me remarkable. I have 
long pray'd for Mexico, and of late in those words, 
that God would open the Mexican Fountain." 

At a later period 'Sewall, instead of contenting him- 
self with his usual bare mention, gives a full account 
of one of these days of prayer which is well worth 
quotation. 

" The Apointment of a Judge for the Super. Court 
being to be made uj^on next Fifth day, Febr. 12, 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 45 

I pray'cl God to accept me in keeping a privat day 
of Prayer with Fasting for that and other important 
matters : I kept it upon the Third day Febr. 10, 170| 
in the nper Chamber at the North East end of the 
House, fastening the Shutters next the Street. — Per- 
fect what is lacking in my Faith, and in the faith of 
my dear Yokefellow. Convert my Children ; Espe- 
cially Samuel and Haiiah ; Provide rest and settlement 
for Haiiah ; Recover Mary, Save Judith, Elisabeth and 
Joseph : Requite the labour of love of my kinswoman 
Jane Tappin, Give her health, find out Rest for her. 
Make David a man after thy own heart. Let Susan 
live and be baptised with the Holy Ghost and with 
fire. Relations. Steer the Government in this difficidt 
time, when the Governour and many others are at so 
much Variance : Direct, incline, overrule on the Coun- 
cil-day fifth-day Feb. 12. as to the Special Work of 
it in filling the Super. Court with Justices ; or any 
other thing of like nature ; as Pli'm° infer. Court.^ 
Bless the Company for the propagation of the Gospel, 
Especiall Gov'' Ashurst &c. Revive the Business of 
Religion at Natick, and accept and bless John Neesnu- 
min 2 who went thither last week for that end. Mr. 
Rawson at Nantucket. Bless the South Church in 
preserving and Spiriting our Pastor ; in directing 
unto suitable Supply, and making the Church unani- 
mous : Save the Town, College ; Province from In- 
vasion of Enemies, open. Secret and from false 

1 Inferior Court of Plymouth. 
■^ Converted Indian and preacher. 



46 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Brethren : Defend the Purity of Worship. Save Con- 
necticut, bless their new Governour: Save the Ref- 
ormation under N. York Government. Reform all the 
European Plantations in America ; Spanish, Portu- 
guese, English, French, Dutch ; Save this New World, 
that where Sin hath abounded, Grace may Super- 
abound ; that Cheist who is stronger, would bind the 
Strong man and spoil his house ; and order the Word 
to be given, Babylon is fallen. — Save our Queen, 
lengthen out her Life and Reign. Save France, make 
the Proud helper stoop [Job ix. 13]. Save all Eu- 
rope ; Save Asia, Africa, Europe and America. These 
were gen'l heads of my Meditation and prayer ; and 
through the bounteous Grace of God, I had a very 
comfortable day of it." 

Nothing gives a more vivid idea of the intensity of 
the Puritan faith than this prayer. Such a practice 
was a form of devotional exercise which indeed fol- 
lowed strictly the injunction of praying and fasting in 
secret. No one outside the family knew of this act of 
devotion so often repeated, and only a chance entry in 
a diary, never intended for publication, has revealed it 
to us. There was of course abundance of public pray- 
ing in the family circle and in the chtirch, and it was 
the miiversal custom to " put up notes," sometimes in 
one church, sometimes in all, asking the prayers of 
the congregations for any jjerson or family oppressed 
with sorrow or repentance or threatened with heavy 
affliction. The ordinary amount of religious exercises 
was something enormous according to modern notions. 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 47 

but yet it did not suffice, and hence these days of soli- 
tary meditation and worship. The wide range of sub- 
jects is the most striking feature of the practice, and 
it is this quality which is so highly characteristic and 
instructive. The spiritual welfare of the individual 
occupied but a comparatively small part of the day set 
apart for a private fast. Every topic of interest per- 
sonal and public, the thousand and one purely tem- 
poral matters which to-day are discussed in the news- 
pajjers or around the dinner-table, the affairs of the 
state and of foreign nations, all alike meet with due 
attention in the prayer of the Puritan. Nothing was 
too trifling to be brought to the throne of heavenly 
grace. It shows in the most vivid way the all-absorb- 
ing and pervading character of the religion of the 
Puritans, and their immovable belief that they were 
a chosen people whose first duty was to be in con- 
stant communion with an ever-present God. There is 
a grand reality about such a faith when we can tear 
aside the veil and see it in the closet in all its sincerity, 
unaffected by the surroundings inseparable from the 
synagogue or the corners of the street. 

Secrecy, however, was in itself very far from being 
a tyi^ical quality of the Puritans. One of the most 
marked features of their character and belief is their 
love of publicity in matters of religion and morality. 
Charles I., in the hands of the saints at Hampton 
Court, dreaded the knife or poison of the assassin, and 
nothing shows more clearly his helpless ignorance of 
the men with whom he had to deal. When they had 



48 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

once determined that their king was a criminal, they 
esteemed it their duty that he should expiate his 
crime in open day, before God and the people. In 
the same spirit the condemned malefactors in Boston 
were brought into church and made the subject of 
discourse from the pulpit. " Thursday, March 11, 
1685," Sewall says, " Persons crowd much into the 
old Meeting-House by reason of James Morgan," a 
condemned murderer who was " turned off " about 
half an hour past five the same day. " Mr. Cotton 
Mather accompanied James Morgan to the place of 
execution and prayed with him there," after having 
used him as a text in the morning. This practice is 
especially noted, and was conducted with much circum- 
stance and pomp in the cases of various pirates be- 
longing to the bands which at that period infested the 
coast of North America, and who were captured in 
New Enoiand from time to time. In 1704 some of 
these notorious and dreaded ruffians landed on Cape 
Ann and were there made prisoners by Salem troops 
commanded by Sewall's brother. More than twenty 
were seized on the 9th and 10th of June and were 
put in prison. The Puritans were no friends to de- 
lays of justice, and the pirates were accordingly tried 
in batches on June 13th, 24th, and 25th. Nearly all 
were condemned to death, and seven, including the 
captain, Quelch, were picked out for immediate execu- 
tion. June 27th, Sewall writes : " In the morning I 
heard Mr. Cotton Mather pray, preach, catechise ex- 
cellently the condemned prisoners in the chamber of 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 49 

the prison." June 30th six were hung, the seventh 
having- been reprieved. The place of the execution 
was near the river on the flats in full view of the 
neighboring hills, the most generally visible spot that 
could have been chosen. Sewall says, " After diner 
about 3 P. M. I went to see the execution. Many 
were the people that sa.w upon Broughton's Hill. 
But when I came to see how the River was cover'd 
with People, I was amazed : Some say there were 100 
Boats ; 150 Boats and canoes, saith Cousin Moody of 
York. He told them. Mr. Cotton Mather came with 
Captain Quelch and six others for execution from the 
Prison to Scarlet's wharf and from thence in the Boat 
to the place of Execution about the midway between 
Hanson's Point and Broughton's warehouse. When 
the scaffold was hoisted to a due height the seven 
Malefactors went up ; Mr. Mather pray'd for them 
standing upon the Boat. Ropes were all fastened to 
the gallows (save King who was reprieved). When 
the scaffold was let to sink, there was such a screech 
of the Women that my wife heard it, sitting in our 
Entry next the Orchard and was much surprised at 
it ; yet the wind was sou-west. Om* house is a full 
mile from the place." The " Boston News Letter " 
of that day says that " notwithstanding all the great 
labour and pains taken by the Reverend ministers of 
the Town of Boston the pirates dyed very obdurately 
and impenitently, hardened in their sin." It is to be 
hoped, however, that the efforts of the ministers and 
the publicity of the execution had the edifying effect 



50 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

upon the people, wliicli was tlie chief object of the 
Puritans in all such matters. It was in this way, at 
all events, both by the preaching and the punishment, 
that criminals were used to point the moral in person, 
and were brought before the eyes of the peojjle in 
visible token of the punishment of evil lives. In a 
similar manner the Puritan, as I have said, was ac- 
customed to demand the prayers of the congregation, 
not only in times of affliction but when convinced of 
sin. The best known act in Judge Sewall's life is his 
confession of repentance for the part he had taken in 
the witchcraft persecution. The hand-bill which he 
posted in the Old South Church, admitting his sin, 
and desiring the prayers of the congregation, is given 
in the diary. It was not enough that the change of 
heart which domestic sorrow had wi'ought in him 
should be known to himself and his God. The world 
must know it too. Whether the Puritans brought a 
king to execution, led out a murderer to the gallows, 
or admitted their own past errors, there was no con- 
cealment about it. They were not merely ready to 
justify their conclusions, but they were determined 
that they should be known and seen of men. In this 
way alone would truth prevail, and the kingdom of 
righteousness be established on earth. Whatever the 
faults of Puritan politics and religion, the dagger of 
the assassin, the secrets of the confessional, or the 
casuistry of the Jesuits, found no place among them. 

This strong tendency to draw moral lessons from 
every occurrence, and to attribute every unusual mani- 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 51 

festation to Divine influence or to the working of the 
Holy Spirit, was far from blinding them, however, to 
the existence of more worldly motives. The religious 
explanation was in their eyes the natural one, but the 
strong sense and native shrewdness of the English 
Puritan was rarely so blunted that it failed to under- 
stand mundane influences. The following incident, 
which occurred while Sewall was still a very young 
man, illustrates this power of discrimination in an 
amusing way : — 

" Saturday Even., Aug. 12, 1676, just as prayer 
ended Tim. Dwight sank down in a swoun, and for a 
good space was as if he perceived not what was done 
to him. After kicked and sprawled, knocking his 
hands and feet upon the floor like a distracted man, 
was carried pick-pack to bed by John Alcock, there 
his cloaths pulled off. In the night it seems he talked 
of ships, his master, father, and unckle Eliot. The 
Sabbath following Father went to him, spake to him 
to know what ailed him, asked if he would be prayed 
for, and for what he would desire his friends to pray. 
He answered, for more sight of sin, and God's healing 
grace. I asked him, being alone with him, whether 
his troubles were from some outward cause or spirit- 
ual. He answered, spiritual. I asked him why then 
he could not tell it his master, as well as any other, 
since it is the honour of any man to see sin and be 
sorry for it. He gave no answer, as I remember. 
Asked him if he would goe to meeting. He said, 
't was in vain for him ; his day was out. I asked, 



62 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

what day : he answered, of Grace. I told him 't was 
sin for any one to conchide themselves Reprobate, that 
this was all one. He said he wonld speak more, but 
could not, &c. Notwithstanding all this semblance 
(and much more than is written) of compunction for 
sin, 't is to be feared that his trouble arose from a 
maid whom he passionately loved : for that when Mr. 
D wight and his master had agreed to let him goe to 
her, he eftsoons grew well." 

" Friday, Aug. 25. I spake to Tim. of this, asked 
him whether his convictions were off. Pie answered, 
no. I told him how dangerous it was to make the con- 
victions wrought by God's sj)irit a stalking horse to 
any other thing. Broke off, he being called away by 
Sam." 

The discovery of the unlucky Tim is far less striking 
than the immediate assumption by all concerned that 
his difficulties must be of a religious nature, and the 
half belief of even the culprit himself that his mental 
agitation was due to religious fervor and not to the 
ardor of earthly love. 

If the utter absorption in religion which these vari- 
ous examples indicate were the whole of the Puritan 
faith it woidd offer no object for study, no cause for 
interest. If this were all, the Puritan would not have 
crushed mitre and crown together and placed England 
in the foremost rank of European nations, or laid the 
foundation of another English empire on the rocky 
shores of Massachusetts. They would have been only 
one more example of the fanaticism which sent the 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 63 

early ascetics to the desert and the later ones to the 
cloister. But the all-absorbing and ever-present relig- 
ion of the Puritans did not require the renunciation 
of the world. It made the affairs of this life second- 
ary, but it did not efface them. In the old forms of 
belief, in the mediseval church, man passed from the 
material to the spiritual, until he wholly lost sight of 
the former. With the Puritan the case was exactly 
reversed. The spiritual struggle and the succeeding 
calm came first and left the man at liberty to deal 
with the material world about him. The Puritan 
found his consecration to God in doing what he be- 
lieved was God's service among the men and things of 
this life. He was not to leave the world and its temp- 
tations, but to go out into it to do what seemed right 
in his own eyes and establish the kingdom of God 
upon earth. In this way the religion of the Puritans 
became a great and active force socially and politically, 
instead of a stifling atmosphere of idle superstition. 
Thus it was that the Puritans founded states and ruled 
commonwealths. Thus it was that tliey prodticed great 
statesmen and soldiers and politicians, instead of fol- 
lowers of La Trappe. 

The common usage in speaking of the religion of 
the New England Puritan is to refer to it as " gloomy 
and repulsive fanaticism," or " narrow and harsh 
bigotry." Like most popular statements this is super- 
ficial and insufficient, but contains, nevertheless, some 
elements of truth. The religious belief of New Eng- 
land was awful in its sternness. There is in all his- 



54 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tory no greater exhibition of the dogged persistence 
and stubborn courage of the English race than the set- 
tlement of Massachusetts. It is true that the colonists 
believed they were doing God's work, but their doc- 
trines were so terrible that it is a matter of profound 
astonishment how they had the courage to face their 
own religious convictions and the terror of the wilder- 
ness at the same time. The real explanation, of course, 
is that to men with such beliefs, mere earthly dangers 
and trials sank into utter insignificance. Yet it is 
not easy to conceive how the human heart and mind 
could have been steeled to bear such a strain. The 
stories of the early days and of the first landings have 
become household words, and the struggles with fam- 
ine and cold and savages in the days of Endicott 
and Winthrop are familiar to us. Yet it may be 
doubted whether those first fierce conflicts required 
more strength than the continuous hardship and grind- 
ing discomfort which went on year after year when 
the colony was first settled. It is true that in those 
days men were accustomed to far less bodily comfort 
even in Europe, than at the present time, yet we can- 
not but wonder at the sturdy endurance which bore, 
without a murmur, the physical hardshij)s of a New 
England winter, as we find them detailed by Sewall. 
Food was often scarce in severe winters, and there was 
but little variety ; communication with the outer world 
almost ceased ; travel was well-nigh impossible, and 
the means of keeping warm were totally insufficient. 
One winter Sunday, toward the close of the seven- 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 65 

teenth century, Sewall notes In his diary that the sac- 
ramental bread was frozen, and rattled as it fell upon 
the plate. More than twenty years later even, in 1716, 
when the appliances of comfort had greatly increased 
he writes : " Lord's Day, Jan'' 15. An extraordinary 
cold Storm of wind and Snow. Blows much as coming 
home at Noon and so holds on. Bread was frozen at 
the Lord's table ; Mr. Pemberton administered. Came 
not out to afternoon exercise. Though t'was so cold, 
yet John Tuckerman was baptised. At six arclock my 
ink freezes so that I can hardly write by a good fire 
in my Wive's chamber. Yet was very comfortable at 
meeting. Laus Deo^ What a picture of utter dis- 
comfort such an incident as this conveys. This contin- 
ual suffering from the winter climate, moreover, fell 
upon all with nearly equal severity. One house was 
about as warm as another, and wood, the only fuel, 
was both cheap and plenty. One convincing proof 
and practical result of this hard existence is the great 
infaut mortality, already alluded to, of which this di- 
ary offers abundant evidence and to which the fero- 
cious practice of baptizing new born babes at church, 
in aU weathers, no doubt contributed. 

The state, too, called upon all alike to take their 
share of exposure and suffering in her service. Sew- 
all was soldier as well as lawyer and judge, and 
although a man of wealth and position, a deputy and 
a magistrate ; he was obliged to take his turn at watch- 
duty in Boston, and go the rounds of the little town 
through many a long cold night. Even after he was 



56 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

sixty years old, when he had long been a member of 
the Council and of the Supreme Coiirt, of which he be- 
came Chief Justice, he still continued to make occa- 
sional rounds of the town at night at the head of the 
constables. He frequently makes note in his diary of 
these expeditions, and thus describes one which indi- 
cates that the Puritan town was rapidly growing and 
getting some of the evils as well as the advantages of 
an increased population : — 

" Monday, Aug*. 1715. Set out at 11. at night on 
Horseback with Tho. Wallis to inspect the order of 
the towTi [accompanied by six constables]. Dissi- 
pated the players at Nine Pins at Mount Whoredom.^ 
Benjamin Davis, chairmaker, and Jacob Hasy were 
two of them. Reproved Thomas Messenger for En- 
tertaining them. As came home between 2 and three 
took up Peter Griffis, the notorious Burglarer, and 
comitted him to Prison. Generally the Town was 
peaceable and in good order." 

A magistrate and judge of high position like Sew- 
all was also expected to exercise a general supervision 
over the morals of the people, and his extensive and 
vague powers in this respect seem to have been im- 
plicitly submitted to. Here is an example : — 

On Saturday, July 30, 1715, Sewall attended a 
funeral in Cambridge, and says : " T'was six a-clock 
when came out of the Burying place ; so I came 
straight home upon my Gray horse ; saw a Rainbow 
in Charlestown Market Place. Caus'd the Shops to 
* South aucl west slopes of Beacon Hill. 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 67 

be Shut up, as I rode along-." This is an instance of 
the strict maintenance of the Puritan Sabbath, which 
was held to begin at six o'clock on Saturday. An- 
other similar case, involving the enforcement of the 
rigid law against Sunday traveling, occurs soon after. 
The account of this incident, which befell Sewall 
when on the circuit, is interesting, not only as a pic- 
ture of manners and customs, but because it is so 
strongly tinged with the worldly shrewdness which, in 
the midst of religious considerations, imparts so much 
humor and interest to the diary, and reveals the writ- 
er's character in such a genuine and amusing way : — 

" May, 13. (Sunday) In the evening I had an ink- 
ling that two merchants Came from Ipswich. I said 
how Shall I do to avoid Fining them. I examined 
Richard Gerrish.^ As I understood him, they lodg'd 
at Major Epes's on Satterday night and went to the 
publick worship there ; and when the afternoon Exer- 
cise was over, came to Newbury. They Travailed not 
in Service Time : and had a ship at Portsmouth ready 
to Sail which wanted their Dispatch. Alleged that 
Mr. Peter La Blond was gone sick to Bed. I took his 
word to speak with me in the morning. I consulted 
with Col. Thomas, who inclined to admonish them as 
young and strangers and let them go. 

"Newbury, May 14, 1716. By long and by late I 

spake with Mr. Richard Gerrish, Jun"^, and Mr. Peter 

La Blond, by whom I understand they were at Mr. 

Wigglesworth in the morning, and at Ipswich meeting 

^ One of the delinquents. 



68 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

in the Afternoon, Being in a strait, I had pray'd to 
God to direct. I consider'd Col. Thomas was not a 
Justice there; that this profanation of the Sabbath 
was very great ; and the Transgressors fleeing from 
Town to Town and County to County could rarely be 
censured.^ On the other hand they were young, Mr. 
La Blond's mother my neighbor, Mr. Gerrish had a 
smell of relation : both of them of another Province ; ^ 
and I fear'd lest my Cousin's custom might be lessn'd 
by it, because I had the information from her hus- 
band whose wife, my Cousin was a Gerrish, and Cous- 
in to this Ricli'^. Gerrish, only Child of Capt. Rich'^. 
Gerrish of the Bank. Mr. La Blond apear'd Brisk 
as if he ail'd nothing. I came to this Resolution, that 
if they would make such a submission as this I would 
let them pass, viz : — 

" We do acknowledge our Transgressions of the Law in 
Travailing upon the Lord's Day, May 13, 1716. And do 
promise not to offend in the Uke kind hereafter, as witness 
our Hands Richard Gerrish, 

Peter La Bloxd. 

" This offer they rejected with some Disdain and Mr. 
La Blond paid me a 30* and 10* Bill of Credit for 
both their Fines. 

" Super'" Court at Ipswich, May 19. Here Mr. 
Plern informs me that Gerrish and La Blond went 
from Piatt's on the Lord's Day morn ; He spake to 

^ Sewall, as a judge o£ the Superior Court, had general juris- 
diction. A justice like Thomas was limited to his own county. 
2 New Hampshire. 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 59 

them against it ; They said they coukl but pay 5^ 
Ferryman tokl me, Two were carried over about the 
time of going- to meeting. Cronipton informs me that 
they were at his house, and went not to Meeting at 
Ipswich ; Went away late in the afternoon : So that 
they Travailed 22 Miles or more that day. I hope 
God heard my Prayer and directed me to do right and 
accepted me." There are here unmistakable signs of 
incipient revolt against the narrow Puritan legislation 
by the younger men, as well as curious pictures of by- 
gone manners and habits of thought. 

The bright, and at times almost tropical, summers 
of New England must have been the salvation of the 
colonists, for nothing else came to break the gloom. 
There were absolutely no amusements of any kind, 
and although establishing great political and religious 
principles and founding states are the noblest tasks 
to which men can set their hands, yet poor humanity 
requires withal some relaxation. Nature's winter was 
severe, but it lasted only for a season, while the social 
winter was never broken until the whole system be- 
gan to give way in the eighteenth century. One or 
two unlucky individuals made efforts to furnish en- 
tertainment, but they were rigidly suppressed. We 
learn that — 

" Mr. Francis Stepney, the Dancing Master, desired 
a Jury, so He and Mr. Shrimpton Bound in <£50 to 
Jan' Court. Said Stepney is ordered not to keep a 
Dancing School ; if he does will be taken in con- 
tempt, and be proceeded with accordingly." 



60 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Another or worse attempt of a similar nature was 
checked without the intervention of the law : — 

" In the Even Capt. Eliot, Frary, Williams and 
Self, Treat with Brother Wing about his Setting a 
Koom in his House for a man to shew Tricks in. He 
saith, seeing 't is offensive, he will remedy it. It 
seems the Eoom is fitted with Seats. I read what Dr. 
Ames saith of Callmgs, and Spake as I could, from 
this Principle, That the Man's Practice was unlaw- 
fuU, and therefore Capt. Wing could not lawfully give 
him an accomodation for it. Sung the 90th Ps. from 
the 12th V. to the end. Broke up." 

Amusements and sports of all sorts were regarded 
with unfeigned dislike and were abolished at the out- 
set, while at tlie same time there were but few social 
events to break the monotony. Anything in the 
nature of a party of pleasure was almost unknown. 
There were occasionally dinners, and now and then 
friends met in the afternoon for social enjoyment. 
The time was then passed in conversation, and the 
table seems to have been a generous one. But even 
these mild festivities were most unusual, and appear 
to have generally begun and ended with jirayer. Once 
and again some wealthy man would make a feast on 
the marriage of his daughter, but as a rule weddings 
were solemnized with the utmost privacy and the least 
possible ceremony. One of the noticeable changes 
which followed the establishment of the provincial 
government was the comparatively rapid development 
of the pleasanter side of life. This was especially the 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 61 

case as the eighteenth century advanced, bringing 
with it increased stability and prosperity, as well as 
a readiness and ability to spend money. The rojal 
governors, especially Lord Bellomont and Colonel 
Shute were imbued with English ideas, loved cere- 
mony and fine dressing, and brought the habits of the 
court, for the first time, into the sober Puritan town. 
In their train came various royal officers and red- 
coated soldiers, who introduced color into Boston life 
in other ways than by their dress, and who indidged 
in sports, led as gay a life as they could, occasionally 
fought duels, and not infrequently caused serious dis- 
turbances when they carried their violations of Puri- 
tan rules too far. Nothing indicates better the change 
induced by the appearance of these royal officers than 
Sewall's curt statement that on January 7, 1718, 
" The Gov"^ had a ball at his own ]iome, which lasts 
to 3 in the morn." But although the Puritans were 
much scandalized by the performances of the soldiers 
and by many of the innovations of the Englishmen, 
they insensibly relaxed their own strictness of life. 
They continued to frown on sports, but they had al- 
ways been fond of good eating and drinking, and the 
number of dinner parties and what woidd now be 
called picnics greatly increased. It is evident that 
they lived well, and the amount of food provided for 
consumption at a dinner of ceremony is often extraor- 
dinary, and forcibly recalls the dinner party in Swift's 
" Polite Conversation," which Thackeray so amusingly 
analyzed. 



62 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

The great and really the sole regular diversion, how- 
ever, was found in going to funerals, for these were the 
only important incidents which, for many years, broke 
the dead monotonous level of existence, and a large 
number of entries in the diary relate to the obsequies 
of various persons. Owing to his character and posi- 
tion Sewall was constantly called upon to act as a pall- 
bearer, so that to him, perhaps, more than to most 
others, these events were a peculiar excitement. The 
religious feeling was first gratified by the prayers and 
exhortations at the bed of death, and by those after- 
wards addressed \/0 the bereaved family. When the 
body was brought from the house religion ceased its 
functions. The old hatred of ceremonial manifested 
itself in the custom of the founders, which still lasted, 
of the friends bearing out the body and silently laying 
it in the tomb. Curiously enoiigh, although these last 
rites had been stripped of all spiritual ceremonies, a 
great deal of temporal pomp had grown up around 
them. The " bearers ' of the early days became pall- 
bearers, chosen from the magistrates and leading men 
of the state, to whom scarfs, rings, and gloves were 
distributed. If the deceased had been a soldier or 
magistrate the military companies marched to the 
grave, and in almost all cases there was a formal and 
regular procession through the streets. Verses ap- 
propriate to the occasion were generally written by 
friends, and were sometimes pinned upon the hearse 
according to the fashion of the day in London. Sew- 
all has a long list of the funerals in which he took 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 63 

part, and has jotted down the scarfs and rings which 
he received, and to which he was evidently not averse. 
His liking for funerals and their accompaniments is 
oddly shown in the following passage : — 

" This day John Ive, fishing in great Spie-pond, is 
arrested with mortal sickness which renders him in 
a maner speechless and senseless ; dies next day ; 
buried at Charlestown on the Wednesday. Was a 
very debauched, atheistical man. I was not at his 
Funeral. Had Gloves sent me, but the knowledge 
of his notoriously wicked life made me sick of going ; 
and Mr. Mather, the president, came in just as I was 
ready to step out, and so I staid at home, and by that 
means lost a Ring : but hope had no loss. Follow thou 
Me, was I supose more complied with, than if had left 
Mr. Mather's company to go to such a Funeral." 

Nothing, however, is stranger than the manner in 
which death was regarded by the Puritans. Although 
they cultivated the greatest stoicism they nevertheless 
sorrowed like other men, and felt acutely the loss of 
those whom they loved, but their religion did not 
apparently console them as much by its promises as 
by its teaching. Death was the great event which 
brought them nearer to God than any other, and they 
forced themselves to rejoice at it as a high privilege 
and peculiar grace from which they could gather the 
lessons of their Lord and Master. On the day when 
Sewall buried his sixth child he visited the family 
tomb, upon which he says : — 

" Note. T'was wholly dry, and I went at noon to see 



64 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

in what order things were set; and there I was enter- 
taiu'd with a view of, and converse with, the Coffins 
of my dear Father Hull, Mother Hull, Cousin Quin- 
sey, and my Six Children ; for the little posthumous 
was now took up and set in upon that that stands on 
John's : so are three, one upon another twice, on the 
bench at the end. My Mother ly's on a lower bench, 
at the end, with head to her Husband's head : and I 
order'd little Sarah to be set on her Grandmother's 
feet. 'T was an awf uU yet pleasing Treat ; Having 
said, The Lord knows who shall be brought hither 
next, I came away." 

That he was not peculiar in his views, is shown by 
the following extract, which goes even farther in the 
same direction : " Mr. Joseph Eliot here, says the two 
days wherein he buried his Wife and Son, were the 
best that ever he had in the world." 

But the Puritan system which excluded all amuse- 
ments from daily life was in the last years of its com- 
plete existence when Sewall was writing the earlier 
portion of his diary. In this careful record we can 
easily follow the political as well as the social changes 
which rapidly succeeded the loss of the charter. We 
can watch the sullen resistance to Andros, which 
gradually gathered strength until it led James' gov- 
ernor to a prison. We can perceive that despite this 
opposition the political changes were not without ef- 
fect. Slowly but surely they undermined the prin- 
ciples on which the government had been founded, 
and when the revolution came it only showed that the 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 65 

days of the old system were over, that the Puritan 
theory of government had failed, and could not exist 
under the new conditions of established success and 
material well-being. But we can also see in the diary 
much more gradual but none the less certain altera- 
tions in the religious as well as the political system. 
Society and the church, as conceived and established 
by the earlier generation, struggled hard for exist- 
ence, but they had ceased to be in sympathy with the 
age and its forces and they too gave way. One by 
one the old habits were invaded, and the old prac- 
tices were broken down. The least important and the 
weakest went first, the most essential endured for 
many long years, only to fall at last, until finally the 
great Puritan and English principles of religious and 
political freedom, which can only perish with the race 
to which they belong, alone are left. In Sewall's 
diary every incident is noted. The worthy judge 
clung to every observance and every opinion of the 
past, and with deep regret noted the signs of their 
falling strength. We can count them all and see the 
whole fabric of society pass before us in the entries 
where the hated innovations are recorded. 

Soberness of dress had become, in process of time, 
a strong tenet with the Puritans, and it was iii these 
outward symbols that Sewall first detected the signs 
of a perilous change. The periwig was the first new 
fashion which excited the dread and anger of the con- 
servative portion of the community, and Sewall hated 
it with a peculiar and enduring hatred. Even when 

5 



66 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

his own hair fell off in late life, he could not be per- 
suaded to adopt the prevailing fashion, but contented 
himself with a black silk cap, and not even the objec- 
tion of one of his elderly lady loves whom he was 
assiduously courting could make him swerve from this 
unfashionable habit. He notes the first appearance 
of periwigs in Boston with fear and sorrow, and as 
the habit of wearing them became more common, he 
felt obliged to speak publicly and constantly against 
them, for his oj)position was grounded on religious 
scruple, which would not permit him to be silent. 
In 1685 he writes : — 

" Having occasion this day to go to Mr. Hayward 
the Publiek Notary's House, I speak to him about his 
cutting off his Hair, and wearing a Perriwig of con- 
trary Colour : mention the words of our Saviour, Can 
ye not make one Hair white or black : and Mr. Alsop's 
Sermon. He alledges. The Doctor advised him to it." 

A year later he records the death of a man who 
made wigs, and we cannot help feeling that Sewall 
deemed the fate of this wretched creature a fit punish- 
ment for one who followed so nefarious a trade. 

" This day Wm. Clendon the Barber and Perriwig- 
maker dies miserably, being almost eat up with Lice 
and stupified with Drink and cold. Sat in the watch- 
house and was there gaz'd on a good part of the day, 
having been taken up the night before." 

All, however, were not so zealous or so firm as 
Sewall in this matter, for in 1691 we find the follow- 
ing melancholy entry : — 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 67 

" March 19, 1690-1. Mr. C. Mather preaches the 
Lecture from Mat. 24, and appoint his portion with 
the Hypocrites : In his proem said, Totus mundus 
agit histrionem. Said one sign of a hypocrit was for 
a man to strain at a Gnat and swallow a Camel. Sign 
in 's Throat discovered him; To be zealous against 
an inocent fashion, taken up and used by the best of 
men ; and yet make no Conscience of being guilty of 
great Immoralities. T'is supposed means wearing of 
Perriwigs : said would deny themselves in any thing 
but parting with an oportunity to do God service ; 
that so might not offend good Christians, Meaning, 
1 suppose was fain to wear a Perriwig for his health. 
I expected not to hear a vindication of Perriwigs in 
Boston Pulpit by Mr. Mather ; however not from that 
Text. The Lord give me a good Heart and help me 
to know, and not only to know but also to doe his 
Will ; that my Heart and Head may be his." 

Others, however, remained faithful and steadfast, 
for in 1697 Sewall mentions that he strove to induce 
Mr. Higginson to print a treatise against the obnox- 
ious and sinful periwigs. Still the hated and really 
senseless fashion made steady progress and continued 
to afford a topic for much gloomy comment in the 
diary. Tuesday, June 10, 1701, he writes: " Having 
last night heard that Josiah Willard ^ had cut oft' his 
hair (a very full head of hair) and put on a Wigg, 
I went to him this morning. Told his mother what 

^ Son of Rev. Joseph Willarcl. He had just heen selected as 
the assistant of Sewall's pastor, Mr. Pemberton, 



68 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

I came about, and She caird him. I enquired of him 
what Extremity had forced him to put off his own hair 
and put on a Wigg ? He answered none at all. But 
said that liis Hair was streight and that it parted be- 
hinde. Seem'd to argue that men might as well shave 
their hair off their head, as off their face. I answered 
men were men before they had hair on their faces, 
(half of mankind have never any.) God seems to 
have ordain'd our Hair as a Test, to see whether we 
can bring our minds to be content to be at his find- 
ing : or whether we would be our own Carvers, Lords, 
and Come no more at Him, If disliked our Skin, or 
Nails ; 't is no Thanks to us, that for all that, we cut 
them not off: Pain and danger restrain us. Your 
Calling is to teach men Self-Denial. T'will be dis- 
pleasing and burdensome to good men : and they that 
care not what men think of them care not what God 
thinks of them. Father, Bro'' Simon, Mr. Pemberton, 
Mr. Wigglesworth, Oakes, Noyes, Oliver, Brattle of 
Cambridge their example. Allow me to be so far a 
Censor Morum for this end of the town. Pray'd 
him to read the Tenth Chapter of the Third book of 
Calvin's Institutions.^ I I'ead it this morning in 
course not of Choice. Told him that it (the wig) was 
condemn'd by a meeting of Ministers at Northampton 
in Mr. Stoddards house when the Said Josiah was 
there. Told him of the Solemnity of the covenant 
which he and I had lately Enter'd into which put me 

^ Entitled " Comment il faut user de la vie presente at ses 
aides." 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 69 

upon discoursing to him. He seem'd to say would 
leave off his Wigg when his Hair was grown. I 
spake to his Father of it a day or two after : He 
thank'd me that had discoursed to his son, and told 
me that when his hair was grown to cover his ears, he 
promised to leave off his l^iigg. If he had known of 
it would have forbidden him." Josiah, notwithstand- 
ing his promises, would appear to have been recalci- 
trant and a slave of fashion, so that Sewall seems to 
have felt it necessary to express still further his dis- 
approval. In November of the same year he attended 
meeting at another church, apparently a very marked 
action, which he explained by saying : " I spent this 
Sabbath at Mr. Colman's partly out of dislike to Mr. 
Josiah Willard's cutting off his Hair and wearing a 
Wigg : He preached for Mr. Pemberton in the morn- 
ing ; He that contemns the Law of Nature is not fit 
to be a publisher of the Law of Grace." 

In 1708, speaking of Mr. Chiever, the well-known 
Boston school-master, who had just died, Sewall says 
that he was " a rare instance of Piety, Health, 
Strength, Serviceableuess. The Wellfare of the Prov- 
ince was much upon his Spirit. He abominated Per- 
riwigs." Unfortunately, death gradually removed 
these admirable characters, and, as no one of like 
views succeeded them, Sewall was defeated and the 
obnoxious " Wigg " came into general use. 

Another threatened change, and one far more vital 
in a religious point of view, was the matter of observ- 
ing Christmas Day. Year after year Sewall watched 



70 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

sedulously, and noted carefully, every sign which 
seemed to indicate that this papistical custom Vv^as not 
coming into vogue in Boston. He rejoiced on each 
succeeding Christmas that the people did not observe 
it, and were not compelled to do so by authority. 
The change in this matter was very slow, and is, in 
fact, still going on in New England, but yet there was 
enough two hundred years ago to cause Sewall the 
greatest anxiety. The new government distinctly and 
strongly favored the observance of Christmas, and 
there were, of course, many persons who found it prof- 
itable and congenial to comply ; but the people in gen- 
eral seem to have been of Sewall' s mind, and brought 
their wood to town and transacted their business on 
the 25th of December as on any other day. So ear- 
nest was Sewall on this point that he incurred the ill- 
will of the governor by his well-known opinions, of 
which he refused to abate one jot. In 1697 he makes 
the following characteristic entry : — 

" Decemb'". 25. 97. Snowy day : Shops are open, 
and Carts and sleds come to Town with Wood and 
Fagots as formerly, save what abatement may be al- 
lowed on account of the wether. This morning we 
read in course the 14, 15, and 16th Psalms. From 
the 4th V. of the 16th Ps (' their sorrows shall be mul- 
tiplied that hasten after another god ; their drink 
offerings of blood will I not offer nor take up their 
names into my lips.') I took occasion to dehort mine 
from Christmas-keeping, and charged them to forbear. 
Hanah reads Daniel, 6. and Betty, Luke, 12. Joseph 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 71 

tells me that though most of the Boys went to the 
Church yet he went not." 

With each recurring anniversary he made a similar 
entry and derived much pleasure from the fact that 
outside official circles and among the body of the peo- 
ple the observance of Christmas showed no progress. 
In 1714, after making the usual entry on December 
25th, he writes : — 

" Lord's Day, Decemb^ 26th. Mr. Bromfield and I 
go and keep the Sabbath with "Mr. John Webb, and 
sit down with that Church at the Lord's Table. I 
did it to hold communion with that Church ; and so 
far as in me lay, to put Respect upon that affronted, 
despised Lord's Day. For the Church of England 
had the Lord's Super yesterday, the last day of the 
Week : but will not have it to-day, the day that the 
Lord has made. And Gen^ Nicholson who kept Sat- 
terday, was this Lord's day Rumaging and chittering 
with Wheelbarrows &c., to get aboard at the long 
wharf, and Firing Guns at Setting Sail. I thank 
God I heard not, saw not anything of it : but was 
quiet at the New North." 

In 1722 Sewall tried hard to thwart the governor in 
adjourning the legislature over Christmas. A sharp 
discussion arose thereon in the Council, in tlie course 
of which Sewall said, " the Dissenters came a great 
way for their liberties and now the Church had theirs 
yet they could not be contented excej)t might they tread 
all otliers down," The governor would not take a vote 
in the Council, but the next day adjourned the legis- 



72 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

lature over Christmas to the disgust of Sewall, who 
still found comfort, however, in the fact that the peo- 
ple continued steadfast and paid no heed to the great 
feast of the Church. 

Sewall had indeed no love for any of the holidays, 
because they were connected with the names of saints 
or with feasts of the Romish Church. In 1708, he 
says, " Feria Quarta Augt. 18. Yesterday the Gov'r 
comitted Mr. Holyoke's Almanack to me (presum- 
ably as licenser of the press) ; and looking it over, I 
blotted against FeV, 14th. Valentine; March 25. 
Annunciation of the B. Virgin ; Apr. 24. Easter; 
Sept^ 29, Micliaelmas ; Dec\ 25. Christmas ; and no 
more. K. C. Mart. [King Charles Martyr] was lined 
out, before I saw it ; I touched it not." 

More secular observances of certain days he also 
found objectionable. " April, 1.1719. In the morn- 
ing I dehorted Sam. Hirst and Grindal Eawson from 
playing Idle Tricks because 't was first of April ; they 
were the greatest fools that did so. N. E. Men came 
hither to avoid aniversary days, the keeping of them 
such as the 25th of Dec''. How displeasing must it 
be to God the giver of our Time to keep aniversary 
days to play the fool with ourselves and others." 

Next to Christmas, Sewall' s pet aversion was St. 
George's day, because the Church of England men and 
the soldiers then put on paper crosses, a practice 
which not only offended Sewall, but the people gener- 
ally, who were not slow to retaliate, by degrading and 
insulting the symbol so needlessly worn. There are 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 73 

several allusions to this subject in the diary, and in 
1706 Sewall writes : — 

" Tuesday, Apr. 23. Gov'r comes to Town guarded 
by the Troops with their swords drawn ; dines at the 
Dragon, from thence proceeds to the Town house, 
Illuminations at night. Capt. Pelham tells me sev- 
eral wore crosses in their hats ; which makes me re- 
solve to stay at home ; (though Maxwell was at my 
House and spake to me to be at the Council-Chamber 
at 4 p. m.) Because to drinking Healths, now the 
keeping of a day to fictitious St. George is plainly set 
on foot. It seems Capt. Dudley's men wore Crosses. 
Somebody had fasten'd a cross to a Dog's head ; Capt. 
Dudley's Boatswain seeing him, struck the Dog, and 
then went into the Shop, next where the Dog was, and 
struck down a Carpenter, one Davis, as he was at work 
not thinking anything : Boatswain and the other with 
him were fined 10*' each for breach of the peace by 
Jer. Dumer Esq : pretty much blood was shed by 
means of this bloody Cross, and the poor Dog a suf- 
ferer." It was conduct of this sort, on the part of 
Englishmen, which bred in New England the readi- 
ness for revolution, and it has therefore much signif- 
icance ; but nevertheless one cannot help smiling at 
SewaU's compassion for the dog. 

The old system was in fact slipping away. Men 
began to violate, with impunity, the commands of the 
Bible as to dress, and to run after the customs of 
Rome in the matter of holy days, and there was no 
longer the strong hand of the law to stop them in 



74 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

such courses. Public opinion, too, liad weakened, and 
breaches of Puritan doctrine were no longer regarded 
with abhorrence. Sewall did well to dread the prog- 
ress of these innovations, for they were sure signs that 
the end of that great movement which once swayed 
the English world was at hand. 

Other indications of the same tendency were not 
wanting. As early as 1681, Sewall remarks with dis- 
gust, that Mrs. Randolph, the wife of the spy and in- 
former who was sent out under Charles II. to o-ather 
evidence against the charter, bowed in church at the 
name of Jesus. Another matter which gave rise to 
endless disputes and much heart-burning was the intro- 
duction of the English custom of swearing on and kiss- 
ing the Bible instead of in the Puritan manner by 
simply holding up the hand. In fact, everything relat- 
ing to the English Church was hateful to the Puritans 
of New England as savoring of Popery. One matter 
of deep import in this connection taught the Puritan 
community its first hard lesson of an enforced tolera- 
tion. After a stubborn resistance the English service 
was heard in Boston, and by authority of Andros was 
read within the walls of the Old South, and under the 
provincial government was permanently established. 
To the inhabitants this seemed little else than desecra- 
tion, for in their eyes the Book of Common Prayer was 
only a poor variety of the Popish mass. The gradual 
appearance of the rites of the English Church is sadly 
recorded by Sewall. In 1686 he writes : " Augt. 5. 
Wm. Harrison, the Bodies-maker, is buried, which is 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 75 

the first that I know of buried with the Common- 
Prayer Book in Boston." In a similar way, he gloom- 
ily notes the first marriage in the Episcopal form. We 
can hardly realize now the importance attached by 
these people to outward signs. They looked upon 
them as inroads upon the outer bulwarks and defenses 
of the great doctrines for which they had suffered so 
many things. A few days after the entry just quoted 
Sewall says : " I was and am in great exercise about 
the Ci'oss to be put into the Colours, and afraid if I 
should have a hand in 't whether it may not hinder 
my Entrance into the Holy Land." The old spirit 
which had moved John Endicott to tear the cross 
from the colors because it savored of idolatry was not 
yet wholly dead in New England. But it is not easy 
to conceive now the frame of mind in which a man 
doubted his salvation because the device in the na- 
tional flag was not to his taste. 

The change of government and the introduction of 
the Church service opened the way of course for many 
of the habits and customs of that period in England, 
and there were many persons, galled by the rigid Puri- 
tan restraint, who took advantage of the recent relaxa- 
tion to indulge themselves with pleasures which greatly 
shocked the sober inhabitants of Boston. 

" Friday, Sept. 3, 1686. Mr. Shrimpton, Capt. Lid- 
get and others, come in a Coach from Roxbury about 
9. aclock or past, singing as they come, being inflamed 
with Drink : At Justice Morgan's they stop and drink 
Healths ; curse, swear, talk profanely and baudily to 



76 STUDIES TN HISTORY. 

the great disturbance of the Town and grief of good 
people. Such high-handed wickedness has hardly been 
heard of before in Boston." 

The revival of English sports gave almost as deep 
offense as open revel. Shrove Tuesday offered the 
first opportunity. 

" Feb. 15, 1686-7. Jos. Maylem carries a Cock at 
Ms back, with a Bell in 's hand, in the Main Street ; 
several follow him blindfold, and under pretence of 
striking him or 's cock, with great cart-whips strike 
passengers, and make great disturbance." 

These sports were checked after the fall of Andros, 
when the reaction was strong in favor of the old sys- 
tem, but during his supremacy they went on increas- 
ing, and added no doubt considerably to the unpopu- 
larity of the government. No heed was given to the 
popvdar prejudices in these matters, and it seemed as 
if the court party even tried to insult the inhabitants, 
when we learn that on parade the officers pinned red 
paper crosses upon their breasts. The English sol- 
diers, now seen in Boston for the first time, of course 
took a leading part in all these sports. They had 
matches with the quarter staff and stage fights, and 
two officers even fought a duel on the Common in 
Boston, for which they were promptly arrested. These 
practices and amusements took a fresh lease of life 
and showed renewed vigor after tlie establishment of 
the provincial government ; but they were carried on 
less objectionably, and popular opinion was some- 
what modified, although they were cordially disliked 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 77 

by such men as Sewall, and no doubt, in some re- 
spects, contributed to alienate tfie people from the 
mother country. They were most offensive at the 
outset under Andros, when they were paraded with a 
wanton disregard of the feelings of the people, and the 
general disgust excited by this stupid indifference to 
public sentiment, so characteristic of James II. and 
his servants, is well shown by the following passage, 
written in 1687 : — 

" It seems the May-pole at Charlestown was cut 
down last week, and now a bigger is set up, and a 
Garland upon it. A Souldier was buried last Wednes- 
day and disturbance grew by reason of Joseph Phips 
standing with 's hat on as the Parson was reading 
Service. 'Tis said Mr. Saml. Phips bid or encour- 
aged the Watch to cut down the May-pole, being a Se- 
lect-Man. And what about his brother and that, the 
Captain of the Fisher and he came to blows, and 
Phips is bound to answer next December, the Gov- 
ernour having sent for him before Him yesterday, 
May 26, 1687." 

Such affronts, even in trivial matters, probably had 
as much to do with the revolt against Andros as the 
graver attacks upon the liberties of the colonists. The 
diary throws but little new light upon the purely po- 
litical history of the time, and none at all vipon the 
very obscure point of the actual outbreak. We are 
left as much in the dark as ever in regard to the con- 
duct of that successful rebellion, and are compelled to 
fall back on the old theory that the movement was 



78 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

wholly popular in its origin, and that the leading men 
of the community had nothing to do with it until suc- 
cess was assured. One point, however, is illustrated 
in the strongest manner in the diary, and that is the 
exact nature of the Andros government. Sewall re- 
counts, of course, all the various high-handed meas- 
ures of the governor as they are to be found in all his- 
tories of New England, but he shows very clearly that 
the rule of Andros was by no means that of a bloody- 
minded tyrant, as it was the fashion to consider him 
for many years after his fall. The government of 
Andros in Massachusetts was an exact reproduction in 
little of the government of his master in England. 
Both honestly thought their objects were good, and 
both were indifferent to the means by which those 
objects were attained. They were perfectly blind to 
the actual conditions under which they had to act, and 
were convinced that a system could be set up and 
maintained which was utterly distasteful to the great 
body of the people. Both succeeded in offending the 
moderate leaders, the men who were ready to bear 
much rather than resist, and both sealed their fate by 
so doing. What, for examj^le, could have been more 
unwise than to drive such a man as Sewall to the wall 
by enforcing against him the unjust policy of requir- 
ing new patents for all land in New Engiand? The 
policy in itself was bad enough, but to carry it out in- 
exorably against a prominent, respected, and moderate 
man like Sewall was the height of folly. The case, 
unfortunately, was typical of the reign of James. For 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 79 

blind stupidity, tlie administration of the last Stuart 
attained an eminence in all parts of the English em- 
pire which can hardly be surpassed in history. 

On one point the diary of Sewall is very disap- 
pointing-. There is next to nothing about the witch- 
craft delusion, although its author was one of the 
judges of the special court which tried and con- 
demned the unhappy victims of that excitement. He 
was, therefore, a chief actor in the whole business, and 
when seized with remorse, made the manly confession 
already alluded to. We had a right to expect full de- 
tails from such a man on a subject which is even more 
interesting psychologically than it is historically. A 
few brief and passing allusions are, however, all that 
Sewall permits himself on this topic. From one of 
them his profound belief in the reality of witchcraft is 
apparent, while another brings forcibly to mind the 
wretched victim of the peine forte et dure who, refus- 
ing to plead, was pressed to death. But that is all, and 
it is difficult to explain the writer's silence on a mat- 
ter which absorbed the attention of the whole commu- 
nity, and in which he himself took such a leading part. 
Perhaps even then he had begun to suspect his own 
convictions, or, as was more probable, perhaps his 
whole heart and soul were so infected by the supersti- 
tious epidemic then raging in the colony, that he was 
in no mood to record, in the cold pages of a diary, the 
stirring events and terrible thoughts that must have 
beset him. However this may be, we learn nothing 
from the man who, above all others, was in a position 



80 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

to give to posterity the best account of the trials and 
executions for witchcraft. 

His frank and honest repentance in this matter il- 
lustrates one of the curious contradictions in Sewall's 
character. He was clearly a generous-minded man, 
not only per^Detually doing little kindnesses, but al- 
ways ready to help the afflicted, and not ashamed to 
admit that he had been in the wrong and to confess 
his faults. He was also a very liberal man in certain 
ways. He has the honor of having been one of the 
very first of civilized men in modern times to publicly 
protest against African slavery and the slave-trade. 
In 1700 he published a tract directed against the traf- 
fic in human beings, and deserves for this act, if for 
nothing else, lasting remembrance. At the same time 
he was, as we have seen, narrow, and even harsh in re- 
ligious matters. He submitted to the establishment of 
the Church of England in Boston because it could not 
be helped, but he detested it cordially, and in 1708 he 
bitterly opposed granting permission to the Quakers 
to erect a meeting-house for the celebration of what 
he calls their " Devil's Worship." Both the liberality 
and the narrowness are typical of the man and of the 
time in which he lived. Both sprang from the consci- 
entiousness which was the most marked trait of the 
Puritan, and their combination represents the period 
of transition when New England turned slowly from 
the stern, grand, and uncompromising system of the 
early settlers, and, tacitly admitting that the great ex- 
periment had failed, began to modify and relax her 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 81 

policy and adapt herself imperceptibly but still stead- 
ily to a broader civilization and a more generous if 
less vigorous creed. ♦ 

The first volume of the diary concludes with the es- 
tablishment of the new political system under Phips, 
and the arrival of his successor, Lord Bellomont. The 
two last give us a picture of New England under the 
provincial government. They are distinctly less im- 
portant than the fii'st, and their most amusing if not 
their most interesting passages are those in the third 
volume, which narrate at great length the author's 
courtships. After forty- four years of married life, 
Sewall's first wife died, and within five months 
the bereaved husband was contemplating matrimony 
again. He first paid his addresses to Mrs. Winthrop, 
the widow of his friend. General Wait Still Winthrop. 
Receiving but slight encouragement, he turned to Mrs. 
Dennison, whose husband's will he had lately pro- 
bated. Much courting and interminable discussions 
about settlements ensued. The financial arrange- 
ments, however, promised so ill that Sewall broke the 
affair off, although he says "his bowels yearned to 
Mrs. Dennison," and although the lady came to his 
house to see him and urge him to change his unfa- 
vorable decision. Soon afterwards he married the 
Widow Tilley who lived less than a year ; and then the 
disconsolate widower, for the second time, addressed 
himself to Mrs. Winthrop. He evidently had set his 
heart on this match and the wooing was protracted. 
The chief subject of discussion was, of course, set= 

6 



82 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tlements, but tliere were other and tenderer passages 
between tliem. He evinced a decided fondness for 
kissing his laely-love, and for holding her hand, as 
appears by his saying on one occasion, " Ask'd her to 
acquit me of Rudeness if I drew off her Glove. En- 
quiring the reason, I told her t'was great odds between 
handling a dead Goat and a living Lady. Got it off." 
Nevertheless his elderly ardor could not overcome the 
money difficulties. He declined to keep a coach or 
wear a wig and the lady finally forced him to abandon 
his suit. He then tried a Mrs. Ruggles, and finally, 
after another protracted wrangle over settlements, 
married Mrs. Gibbs who survived him. The whole 
story is minutely told, and is very entertaining to the 
student of character, although it must be admitted 
that it brings into strong relief the petty as well as 
the sensual side of SewaU's nature, and does not do 
justice to the many noble qualities which he really 
possessed. 

The more public matters of historical interest in 
these two last volumes are not many. We have al- 
ready seen the gradual social changes which they depict, 
and apart from this the most important points are the 
decline of the influence of the once all-powerful clergy 
and the steady development of a compact and skillful 
opposition to the English governors. The struggle of 
the clergy to maintain their position in the state, after 
the old political system had been swept away, is a most 
interesting chapter in our history. It began with the 
witchcraft excitement, to which it largely contributed, 



A PURITAN PEPYS. 83 

and afterwards centred in the conflict as to the con- 
trol o£ the college. There the battle was stubbornly 
fought by the Mathers, who led the old church party ; 
but they were hopelessly beaten by the astute Dudley, 
who, as governor, represented the purely temporal 
power. We catch sight of other evidences of their 
waning power when Sewall notes in 1702 that the 
ministers were much disgusted because the representa- 
tives went first when the queen was proclaimed ; and 
again, when he says, in 1717, that the governor turned 
to talk to somebody as the ministers went out of 
church, and so had his back to them, a grave affront 
in those days. Indeed, we can see plainl}^ throughout 
the two last volumes how fast the old clericalism was 
losing ground. The tide of public opinion had begun 
to set strongly against the vigorous but narrow theo- 
ries of the early Puritans, and the general drift is also 
shown by the manner in which mooted theological 
questions are discussed at length in the diary. Great 
differences of opinion and broader views on many 
points of doctrine were evidently beginning to creep 
in. The old system was at an end, and more liberal 
modes of thought were coming in fashion. So it was 
with the purely political matters. The old spirit of 
independence had vanished, and a new one was grad- 
ually arising which was destined to replace it. Sewall 
himself was an eminently moderate man, but he .was 
usually in opposition to the governor for the time be- 
ing, and when he had once decided on his course noth- 
ing could stir him. The fire of controversy often 



84 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

burned low, but it never went out ; the least attempt 
to increase executive power was jealously resisted and 
the popular party slowly but surely gained ground. 
It was on the whole a very quiet time, but the people 
were being steadily trained to Parliamentary resist- 
ance, and they needed no education to teach them to 
protect their rights and liberties. A new era had 
opened for Massachusetts and New England, and in 
those peacefid days during the early years of the 
eighteenth century the seeds of the future political 
history of the country were sown. The dark days of 
the first settlement, the rigid system of untrammeled 
Puritanism, the great objects, the high and independ- 
ent policy of the company of Massachusetts Bay were 
at end. The period of repose had come, for the En- 
glish world needed rest after the fierce struggles of 
the seventeenth century. But it is during that time 
of inactivity that the people of New England gath- 
ered fresh strength and the new forces came into ex- 
istence which made the revolution of 1776 a possibil- 
ity and a success. 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 



The study o£ great political changes and convul- 
sions always reveals their inevitable character, if we 
go beyond the immediate incidents and seek the re- 
mote causes which are to be found in a long course of 
years in the life, habits, and condition of the people, 
and in the general course of social and political devel- 
opment. This was preeminently the case with the 
French revolution, whose forces had been slowly 
gathering from the time of the Edict of Nantes, and 
even earlier, until they reached a point where the only 
possible solution was in a rending and tearing of the 
body politic, so terrible that it was brought to al- 
most absolute dissolution. In the " Great Rebellion " 
again, while the acts which precipitated civil strife — 
the ship-money and the church policy, the war with 
Scotland and the attempted seizure of the five mem- 
bers — lie on the surface, the causes which made the 
great change unavoidable, in one form or another, 
must be sought far back at the beginning of the cen- 
tury in the dreary and seemingly petty conflicts of the 
reign of James I. These examples have been taken 
merely because they are obvious and familiar, but the 



86 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

same proposition holds ti'ue of all similar events in the 
history of mankind. 

To this rule of remote causes our own revolution, 
which secured our independence, seems at first sight to 
form a marked exception. This does not mean, of 
course, that the colonists were not justified in rebel- 
lion, or that they went to war without ample provoca- 
tion. Nothing, on the contrary, is clearer, or at this 
day more generally admitted, than that they were 
wholly in the right, and that if men ever had good 
reason to fight for a principle, they had. There was, 
in fact, no choice. They exhausted every resource of 
argument, petition, and legal opposition, and then ap- 
pealed to arms to decide between them and their 
mother country. When it is said that our revolution 
was without remote causes, we mean that one can go 
back to the accession of William of Orange, and come 
down to the period of the Stamp Act, and in all those 
years fail to find in the colonies themselves a single 
indication that, before the century closed, they would 
be compelled to readjust their relations with England 
by revolution. The provinces were vigorous, growing 
English communities, full of vitality and accustomed 
to great political freedom. The people wrangled 
steadily with their governors, it is true, for they had 
always managed their affairs pretty much as they 
pleased ; they lived in a new country where tradition 
was weak, and they resented, in genuine English fash- 
ion, anything like undue outside interference with 
their own concerns. This shows that they needed ju- 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 87 

dicious, firm management, and a colonial policy at 
once generous and appreciative. If this had been the 
policy, and above all if there had been no busy and 
ignorant meddling, all would have gone well. The 
colonists were perfectly contented with their lot, were 
thoroughly loyal, loved the mother country, gloried in 
her victories, sorrowed for her defeats, and had a pro- 
found pride in the great empire of which they consti- 
tuted so important a part. There is absolutely noth- 
ing in the history of the English people in America, 
during the first half of the eighteenth century, to sug- 
gest a revolution by force of arms ; much less anything 
which gives it an inevitable character. The colonies 
were developing naturally and harmoniously in well- 
defined and fitting lines. It is easy to say that the 
conquest of Canada loosened the bonds which held 
America to England ; but mere increase of opportu- 
nity is far from equivalent to cause. It is equally 
simple to trace the measures from the passage of the 
Stamp Act to the Declaration of Independence, which 
brought on revolution with sure and steady steps. 
But the revolution began with the Stamp Act ; and 
great revolutions do not spring from the false policy 
of a narrow-minded minister in the night, and come 
to maturity in ten years. The immediate causes of 
the American revolution are clear and plentiful ; the 
remote, far-reaching, and true causes cannot be found 
in the colonies themselves. The revolution was, in 
fact, not merely American, but one which affected the 
whole English race, and which produced results in 



88 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

England only less important than those which it pro- 
duced here. The remote and governing causes must 
be looked for elsewhere than in the colonies ; and 
they well repay the search, for the magnitude of their 
effects can hardly be overestimated. If Sir Robert 
Walpole's policy of " Quieta non movere " had been 
pursued; if his treatment of the colonies had been 
simply continued, and if they had been allowed to work 
out their own destiny in their own way, — it requires 
no very violent stretch of the imagination to guess at 
the result. They would have gone hand in hand with 
England in the great conflict with France ; the politi- 
cal ties would have slowly and imperceptibly weak- 
ened; they would have become too powerful to be 
governed in any degree otherwise than by themselves ; 
and mother and child would finally have parted po- 
litically, but have still been held by affection and in- 
terest, and possibly united by a treaty of alliance. 
Perhaps it is as well for the rest of mankind that this 
is not the case, and that such a gigantic power should 
not now exist ; but its possibility is no very extrav- 
agant hypothesis, and the events which prevented its 
completion and raised up a new nation — to-day the 
greatest and most powerful in the world — well de- 
serve a close study of their remote causes. 

The sources of the American revolution, which be- 
yond the most general conditions imposed by circum- 
stances are sought in vain in the history of the colo- 
nies, can readily be discovered in England, whose 
empire was then unbroken. There the forces which 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 89 

led to tliis far-reaching change may be found, and 
there may their growth be traced. The seventeenth 
century was a period of revolution and turmoil. The 
victory of constitutional liberty was won with the 
Prince of Orange, confirmed by the succession of the 
House of Brunswick, and secured, during the reigns 
of the first two Georges, by that great statesman, Sir 
Robert Walpole, who gives his name to the period in 
which he ruled and to the policy which he originated 
and established. The object of Walpole was to give 
England complete rest both at home and abroad in 
order to allow her strength to be recuperated, her sta- 
bility to be restored, and, above all, finally to repress 
contention for the crown and secure the Protestant 
succession. That the work was well done the fate of 
the Young Pretender amply proved. Charles Ed- 
ward marched to Derby, the inert and feeble ministry 
quaking with idle fear, and then fell back in ignomin- 
ious retreat, defeated solely by the inaction of the 
English Jacobites and the cold dislike of the English 
people. If this had stood alone, Walpole's wisdom 
would have been amply justified : but his foresight 
and sagacity were still further shown when Mr. Pitt, 
in every way his exact opposite, came to the head of 
affairs. Dragging England from the slough into 
which she had been plunged by that greatest of office 
peddlers and meanest of men, the Duke of Newcastle, 
Pitt raised his country to the height of glory by lav- 
ishing, with unstinted hand, the strength which had 
been stored up by Walpole. We may dislike the 



90 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

methods of the minister who deelai'ed, with more truth 
than civility, "that every man had his price ; " but no 
one can question either his greatness, his services, or 
his success. 

At the same time it must also be admitted that 
Walpole's policy and methods had grave faults of 
their own, or rather magnified and fostered the evil 
tendencies of the time. In the first place, the issue 
on which party lines were drawn was almost entirely 
a moral and personal issue. Constitutional liberty 
and English freedom had been saved by the revolu- 
tion of 1G88, and the maintenance of the Protestant 
succession and of the House of Brunswick was the 
pledge of their security. All that was asked of any 
man was that he should shout for King George, and 
cry " Down with King James ! " and those who re- 
fused soon came to be looked upon as essentially bad 
men. It was only necessary that a man should be 
sound on the " main question " to be a good and rul- 
ing Whig. If his dynastic views were correct, a 
Whig might be as corrupt as he pleased, or hold any 
opinions he chose on any subject of finance, taxation, 
or administration. This was the result of a strug^o-le 
in which the life of the nation had been at stake, and 
when political definitions and estimates of character 
were correspondingly simple. Its effect, however, 
as has always been the case in like instances both be- 
fore and since, was disastrous in the extreme to the 
party to whom victory had given uncontrolled power. 
Every principle of honor and morality was sapped 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 91 

and degraded. Walpole, unfortunately, who was nei- 
ther refined nor sensitive, used the base passions of 
the time to serve his own ends, and in so doing sub- 
jected them to a hot-house culture. The Whig party 
became utterly and miserably corrupt and factious, 
while the Jacobites — who, as a hopeless minority, 
were necessarily for a longer time a party of con- 
science and honor — eventually through the dexterous 
manipulation of Walpole came to be every whit as 
bad as their opponents. One well-known anecdote 
sums up, as clearly as possible, the condition of politi- 
cal morality and personal honor among English states- 
men in the reign of George II. Walpole and Hard- 
wicke were wrangling over the terms upon which the 
latter should be made chancellor ; and at last Walpole 
said, " I must offer the seals to Fazakerly ! " " Fazak- 
erly I " exclaimed Hardwicke, " impossible ! he is cer- 
tainly a Tory, perhaps a Jacobite ! " " It 's all very 
true," said Sir Robert ; " but if by one o'clock you do 
not accept my offer, Fazakerly by two becomes Lord 
Keeper and one of the stanchest Whigs in all Eng- 
land." As every one knows, Lord Hardwicke was the 
next chancellor. 

Politics in truth had become not simply a mere 
game, but nothing more than a scramble for places, 
pensions, contracts, and sinecures. A seat in Parlia- 
ment was bought to acquire influence which could be 
sold, and offices were valued simply in proportion to 
the plunder they afforded. Sir Robert Walpole was 
dragged from power by a combination of greedy fac- 



92 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tions, and every successive ministry met its fate in the 
same way. No principle was ever involved in a 
change of administration : it was a mere question of 
" connections " and " arrangements," the distribution 
of patronage and the share in the spoils. No one es- 
caped the contagion. Mr. Pitt Vv^as an almost solitary 
exception even in the sordid point of pecuniary hon- 
esty, and yet he too could employ a magnificent servil- 
ity toward his sovereign, and was constantly dealing 
in his own grand manner in arrangements and in- 
trigues. When he came to power it was by throwing 
the patronage which he despised to the Duke of New- 
castle, as one would throw a bone to a hungry cur ; 
and his advent was not on a question of policy, but 
because it was absolutely necessary to secure a great 
statesman and still greater war minister to carry Eng- 
land through a hitherto disastrous struggle. The glo- 
ries of Pitt's administration, which hushed and daz- 
zled Parliament and raised the English race to the 
highest pitch of greatness which they ever reached 
under one flag, lift the wretched history of corrupt 
factions into a purer atmosphere of broad statesman- 
ship and victorious war. The accession of George III. 
drove Pitt into retirement, nominally on the issue 
of war or peace ; but the change meant really a 
reversion to an even worse condition of politics than 
that which had preceded his ministry. 

The degradation of public life and pul)lic morals 
was now about to bear fruit. Sooner or later a sov- 
ereign was certain to come who w^ould see that by cor- 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 93 

ruption the power which had been grasped by the 
Whig" aristocracy could be torn from them ; that it 
would then be possible to restore the crown to the 
position which it had occupied in the time of Charles 
II. Everything, however delusive in reality, was to 
a king in appearance at least peculiarly favorable. 
The Jacobites and Tories were ready to transfer 
their loyalty from the hopeless cause of the Stuarts 
to the reigning house of Brunswick, and they and the 
Scotch were fully prepared to support any stretch of 
the prerogative. The once all-powerful Whig party 
was rent with bitter factions and honey-combed with 
political and pecuniary corruption, so that their pol- 
itics, as Dr. Johnson said, were no better than the pol- 
itics of stock-jobbers and the religion of infidels. A 
far stupider man than George III. would have seen 
his opportunity and seized it ; a wiser man would have 
grasped it in order to use it to good and beneficent 
purpose. A great prince would have aj^pealed to the 
people, and, as the popular leader, would have beaten 
down the oligarchy which hedged the throne, oppressed 
the masses, and stifled all proper public responsibility. 
A king of narrow mind and mean ambitions would 
have seen only the chance to wrest from the aristocracy 
the power which he coveted for himself, and would 
have used against his nobles the same demoralizing and 
debauched methods which they had employed against 
him and against the people. Unluckily for England 
George III. was a ruler of the latter type, and was 
eager to make the most of his opportunities with noth- 



94 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

ing: but the smallest and most selfish ends in view. 
The condition of affairs was certainly perilous enough. 
Parliament was open to almost any daring or evil 
scheme ; the king was bent vipon restoring the power 
of the crown ; the state was loaded with crying 
abuses ; the great political families were either fight- 
ing savagely with each other, or devising new combi- 
nations for office-holding, accompanied always with 
fresh instances of political profligacy and a further 
extension of corruption ; and underneath all this, 
among an unrepresented people of keen political in- 
stincts, was a mass of seething, blind, inarticulate op- 
position and a hot desire for a redress of grievances 
which they could not themselves explain. It is to this 
scene in English history that Mr. Trevelyan has ad- 
dressed himself in the " Early History of Fox." ^ 

The subject is a fine one. The period is full of 
salient points and of strong contrasts of light and 
shade. It is suited especially to a historian of the 
school of Lord Macaulay, to which Mr. Trevelyan be- 
longs ; and indeed, partly by inheritance, partly per- 
haps by unconscious imitation, his style is strongly 
tinged with the rich colors employed so unsparingly 
by his uncle. The early days of Fox demand a writer 
with talents of this kind, and with the cast of mind 
to which the picturesque in history ajipeals more 
strongly than anything else, for in historical coloring 
and effective incident it is, like many other periods 

1 Early History of Charles James Fox. By George Otto Tre- 
velyan. 1880. 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 95 

of moral and j)olitical degradation, marvelously rich. 
Those were the halcyon days of the aristocracy in 
point of mere power; and the outside of the time glit- 
ters with wit and learning, with art, literature, and 
belles-lettres, just as the rich and brilliant dress of the 
fine ladies and gentlemen sparkled with jewels. It 
was the age of Chatham and Burke ; of Wilkes, Beck- 
ford, and Junius ; of Barre, Camden, Shelburne, and 
Conway ; of Johnson, Goldsmith, and Garrick. They 
all live for us upon the gracious and noble canvases 
of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the great leaders stand 
out in history against a gorgeous background of roy- 
alty, titles, nobility, and wealth. It was, too, the age 
of letter- writing, when correspondence was one of 
the fine arts, — neither too expensive nor too difficult, 
as it had been a century before, nor too rajDid and 
easy, as it is at the present day. For this reason rich 
material lies on the surface, and the picturesque his- 
torian does not need to delve deeply, but can gather 
everything he wants with little pains, troubled only 
by the task of selection and arrangement. This is 
the case with Mr. Trevelyan. With Walpole alone, 
almost, — certainly with Walpole supplemented by a 
dozen or twenty of the best known lives, memoirs, and 
collections of letters, — this volume, so far as mere 
material goes, might readily have been written. The 
investigation of the betting-book at Brookes' is an ex- 
ception to the general rule ; and the residts of this 
bit of research are not only curious, but cast a bright 
beam of light upon the fashionable and fast life of the 



96 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

time. The art of a writer lilce Mr. Trevelyan does 
not lie, however, in the collection of masses of new 
material from dusty archives, and the illumination of 
dark places by deductions which he would thus be en- 
abled to draw. "How do you mix your colors?" asked 
a friend of Gilbert Stuart. "As I do sugar in my 
tea, according to my taste," replied the great portrait 
painter. In the same way it is a question of taste with 
writers of Mr. Trevelyan's school. They are to be tried 
not by the depth of their research or the profundity 
of their science, but by the fineness of their art. Yet 
they also teach the lessons and the philosophy of his- 
tory, when they do their work well, much better than 
those who occuj)y a species of historical pulpit and sad- 
den us by their judicial lectures and learned sermons. 
Mr. Trevelyan's purpose is to present a many-sided 
picture of a certain period, and his merit consists in 
the skill of his drawing and coloring with the ma- 
terials open to all and readily accessible. In this field 
he has achieved a signal success. He has the true 
sense of historic effect ; and he has, what is equally im- 
portant, the keen love of politics and the strong sym- 
pathy with politicians, especially of the Whig school, 
so essential to the writer who seeks not only to under- 
stand the period in question, but to interest his readers 
in the turns and windings of political management and 
intrigue. Mr. Trevelyan's book unrolls a panorama 
of the early years of George III., vigorous in draw- 
ing and brilliant in coloring, vivid and distinct. But 
at this point Mr. Trevelyan stops. He does not seek 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 97 

to disclose the springs of the machinery which he de- 
scribes ; he does not give us the reasons for the ex- 
istence of the phenomena he has portrayed ; he does 
not tell us what his picture meant at the moment, or 
what it portended in the future. In thus limiting 
himself there can be no doubt that Mr. Trevelyan is 
artistically right. He leaves his picture to speak for 
itself to every one who looks upon it, and does not at- 
tempt to aid them by a running commentary or ex- 
planation. But to the critic or student who is not 
content to say " brilliant, clever, interesting," and 
there an end, the very things which Mr. Trevelyan 
omits are those of the deepest interest. 

Mr. Trevelyan, however, strikes the key-note in the 
opening pages, where he speaks of his subject as 
" a period of transition." It was indeed above all a 
period of change. The same forces were at work in 
England which, before the century closed, were felt 
throughout the western world with the most momen- 
tons results. Aristocracy and despotism had in the 
most enlightened countries done their work as political 
systems, and in their progress they had become loaded 
with abuses. Aristocracy might be so modified as 
still to do good service ; but if this failed, then it 
and despotism alike were doomed : they were passing 
away, and the problem was how the change could be 
most easily accomplished. Future history was to be 
made up of the rise of democracy and the spread of 
the doctrine of the greatest good of the greatest num- 
ber, as the true aim of society and government. The 

7 



98 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

student In lils library can see all this to-day plainly 
enough, but it was very dark to the men of the eight- 
eenth century. Some were in absolute darkness, — 
blind, mole-like Tories like Dr. Jolmson, and noble- 
men and gentry not blessed with sufficient strength 
of intellectual vision. Other and greater minds saw 
as through a glass darkly, and had even then begun 
to grope their way about in search of the true means 
of solving the miglity problem which they felt press- 
ing upon them. To this class belonged in a certain 
sense Chatham, and in every sense Burke, although 
he went astray subsequently in the madness naturally 
awakened by the " Terror." Besides these two there 
were also Conway, Shelburne, Fox at a later time, 
and the younger Pitt when he first became minister. 
But when Mr. Trevelyan's hero came upon the stage of 
public life the night had not yet lifted ; the king was 
trying his not unreasonable experiment of building up 
the power of the crown ; and a revolution which rent 
the empire in twain had to be faced before the re- 
forms begun by Fox, continued by Pitt, and arrested 
for fifty years by the French Revolution became even 
barely possible. It was, in short, the opening period 
of the era of change and transition with which the 
eighteenth century closed and the nineteenth began ; 
a very dangerous and inflammable period, full of pos- 
sibilities of great good and great evil, and very imper- 
fectly understood by those who acted in it and swayed 
its fortunes. 

Some of Mr. Trevelyan's critics have taken him to 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 99 

task for calling Charles Fox "the first of modern 
English statesmen." The description is possibly a 
little too sweeping, but it is essentially correct. In 
all that time there is no man so thoroughly typical of 
the period of transition as Fox. Starting as an ad- 
herent of the ministry, as a follower of the dark and 
tortuous path trodden by his father, Fox became on 
the one hand a leader of the old constitutional Whigs, 
clinging to their aristocratic traditions, and venerat- 
ing the principles of the " happy revolution ; " while 
on the other he was a man of the future, the re- 
former of abuses at home and in the colonies, the 
opponent of slavery, the generous champion of the 
American colonists and of the people of France. 
There grew up about him, in his later years, a set of 
men who, beginning with domestic reform, with slavery 
and the criminal law, finally, by themselves or by their 
followers and descendants, effected the great changes 
of 1832, which gave us the England of the present 
day. Fox was the connecting link between the states- 
men of the eighteenth century and those of recent 
times ; but in all his best and most characteristic 
qualities he may be fitly styled "the first of modern 
English statesmen." The ties which bound him to 
the past led him into the errors and mistakes which 
warped and maimed his career. It was the Fox of 
the eighteenth century who served under Lord North, 
and who entered into the Coalition of 1782. It was 
the Fox of the nineteenth century, the first and by 
far the greatest of modern English statesmen, who 



100 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

struggled for reform ; who almost alone and with the 
most splendid courage confronted overwhelming ma- 
jorities, and saw the real meaning and good of the 
French Revolution through the murky clouds of the 
" Terror ; " and it was this Charles Fox, the lovable 
and the beloved, who came to be the hero and demi- 
god of the best school of English public men. 

The early days of Fox were his worst days. Indeed, 
in the opening years of his life it is not easy to dis- 
cover the great liberal of the future. Yet like all the 
rest of Fox's career his early life was typical. He in- 
herited the doctrines of his father, who was, perhaps, 
as bad an example as could be found of all the polit- 
ical vices of the eighteenth century in England. Of- 
fices and plunder were the creed of the first Lord 
Holland ; and his son, making himself master of these 
and backed by bought majorities, astonished the 
House of Commons by his brilliant, youthful rhetoric, 
attacking what was right with the same success which 
he won in later years when he denounced what was 
wrong. It was the way of the world into which 
Charles Fox was born, and he took up all the ways of 
that world with equal extravagance and success. 

This period, drawn so vividly for us by Mr. Tre- 
velyan, and in which Charles Fox was cutting a fig- 
ure which extorted praise and wonder even from the 
grudging pen of Horace Walpole, was pregnant with 
great possibilities and destined to bring forth vast 
changes. The time was ripe for wise and beneficent 
reforms ; it was also ripe for revolution and disaster, 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 101 

and it fell to the lot of George III. to solve the prob- 
lem. George III. has been, to our thinking, a much- 
misunderstood character. The popular idea seems to 
be that he was a well-meaning, honest, stupid, and ob- 
stinate man, of irreproachable private life and high 
notions of the prerogative. There is in this, of course, 
an element of truth ; but owing largely to Thackeray 
his domestic virtues have obscured his public con- 
duct. In his family George III. led the decent, nar- 
row, dull life of a resj)ectable provincial shopkeeper or 
farmer. It was an agreeable contrast, it must be con- 
fessed, to the loose living of his grandfather, the weak 
profligacy of his father, and the weaker and still worse 
profligacy of his son. At the same time George II., 
on the whole, was a far more estimable character than 
his grandson and a far better king. The latter's plain 
domestic virtues, which gave way readily enough at 
need, — as Avhen the queen made herself the protec- 
tress of the tarnished reputation of Mrs. Hastings, — 
did a world of harm to England. Respectability in 
private life served George III. many a good turn in 
his abandoned public career ; for it is hardly going too 
far to say that, from a public point of view, he was 
one of the worst kings who ever filled the English 
throne. He was anything but a stupid man ; on the 
contrary, he had good natural abilities and a pro- 
digious capacity for work. He saw the opportunity 
ofPered by English politics of regaining by corruption 
what force had failed to maintain, and this oppor- 
tunity he set himself to improve with the sole idea 



102 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

of building up his own power and prerogatives. He 
showed in his proceedings a good deal of sagacity ; 
and his obstinacy w^as not a mark of dullness, but 
was closely akin to the quality of firmness which has 
been of service to many greater men. He fomented 
and encouraged every factious quarrel, until he had 
effaced party distinctions and made combinations not 
merely difficult, but well-nigh impossible. He built 
up a party in politics utterly devoid of j)i"inciple, and 
held together solely by attachment to his person. He 
used every form of corruption in a way which would 
have astonished even Sir Robert Walpole. Unscru- 
pulous ability he cherished, as in the case of Thur- 
low and Wedderburn ; but he admitted no other, and 
most of his ministers were chiefly conspicuous for ar- 
rogance and ignorance. His falseness was as great, 
almost, as that of the first Charles. There was not an 
enemy and hardly a friend whom he did not sooner or 
later betray, if he thought himself liable to be thwarted, 
or saw in perfidy the means of gaining a point. Such 
a king was a dangerous ruler for England in 1760, 
and George had only too good grounds for hoping that 
his experiment would succeed. He failed by shortness 
of vision, not through lack of clearness of perception. 
He saw distinctly his immediate object and all the 
methods of attaining it ; but he saw very dimly, if at 
all, the remote consequences and the hidden and con- 
trolling forces with which he had to grapple. He paid 
no heed to the people, that great force which would 
have brought him a noble triumph, but thought only 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 103 

of himself and mean personal aggrandizement. He 
did not reckon sufficiently upon the power of resist- 
ance, the inborn j^olitical sense and strong love of lib- 
erty inherent in the great mass of the English race. 
He heard the voices about him, those of court, society, 
and Parliament, and they flattered his hopes ; but he 
was deaf to the sound of the far mightier voices which 
came up in hoarse murmurs from an unrepresented 
and misgoverned people. How far George III. could 
have advanced if he had confined himself exclusively 
to England is an open question, so far as momentary 
success is concerned, although there could have been 
ultimately but one result. Everything certainly prom- 
ised an immediate victory. The opposition was grad- 
ually divided, broken up, and discredited by the royal 
policy, until nothing remained to it but eloquence, 
character, and ability. All these it had, but few votes, 
and no power. A ministry was- at last developed in 
command of a strong and servile majority and wholly 
subservient to the crown ; in short, a ministry of the 
king's friends. The outlook at the close of the first 
decade of George's reign certainly promised well for 
the prerogative. The king's scheme, in fact, had 
gone so far that the real question was, at bottom, not 
whether there would be a revolution, but when and 
where the revolution would come. George III. forced 
it forward, and made reform impossible and revolur 
tion sure. The warnings of the impending storm were 
clear enough, but no one heeded them. Wilkes and 
the Middlesex election shook the kingdom from one 



104 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

end to the other, and the excitement of the popular 
mind at that moment foretold surely the result of the 
royal policy if persisted in. But the king carried the 
day and believed himself stronger than ever, and 
the lesson of the Middlesex electors taught him and 
his advisers nothing. The shrill diatribes of Junius 
struck a responsive chord throughout the country, be- 
cause they expressed the inarticulate rage of a peo- 
ple shockingly misgoverned. The court strove to sup- 
press them because they were abusive and seditious, 
and tended to excite the people ; but they failed to 
see that the real meaning and danger of Junius lay 
not in what he wrote, but in something beyond the 
reach of prosecutions, — in the popular sympathy with 
the hidden writer, in the echo of his words among 
hundreds who felt dumbly all that Junius expressed. 
But George III. and his abettors saw none of this : 
they did not see what the eighteenth century had been 
preparing ; they only knew that they were gaining 
strength, that they had control of Parliament, and 
that they had wrested power from the great Whig 
families. The Whig aristocracy had driven James 
from the throne and established the House of Bruns- 
wick. If this aristocracy, therefore, fell before the 
crown, who were left to resist the king? The men 
who reasoned in this way forgot the people, or rather 
never considered them as a factor. A new force was 
arising in the world, — that of the people, of democ- 
racy, the force of the future ; and it was with this 
that kings and ministers had to reckon, and not with 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 105 

that of the past, the force of aristocracy. This new 
element was moving restlessly and unceasingly ; but 
the question was, When and where would it be called 
out ? If George III. had confined his work to Eng- 
land, it would sooner or later have sprung into life 
there, and would have fought its battle at once instead 
of advancing slowly and in more wholesome fashion for 
nearly a century. But this was not to be. The Eng- 
lish revolution of the eighteenth century was destined 
to be precipitated and fought out in a new world, 
where the first great uprising of the English people had 
done so much to j)lant the germs of powerful states. 
If a revolution in England had not anticipated that in 
America, the colonies would sooner or later have come 
within the scope of George's policy, which derived its 
strength from the condition of English politics and 
society. That the provinces were the first to come 
into conflict with the king was largely due to chance. 
The close of the French war revealed to politicians — 
among whom the greed for money was the paramount 
consideration — thirteen rich, growing, and vigorous 
commonwealths, of which, thanks to the wisdom of Sir 
Robert Walpole, they had previously laiown little or 
nothing. They saw at a glance that the colonies were 
very loosely governed and very lightly taxed. An 
enchanting vista of sinecures and revenue was thus 
opened before them, and to the honest, narrow-minded 
George Grenville a fine opportunity was presented 
for improved administration and, as a necessary con- 
sequence, ignorant meddling. The Stamp Act fol- 



106 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

lowed, and there was an explosion of resistance from 
one end of America to tlie other, which ought to have 
been a lesson sufficiently strong to have made the rev- 
olution impossible. The Rockingham Whigs repealed 
the Stamp Act ; but like many other excellent and 
well-meaning men they proved to be weak as well as 
good, and they pacified themselves and Parliament by 
declaring that they had the right to do that which they 
dared not undertake. They salved the wound, but left 
the sting behind. Sustained by the declaratory act, 
men who had none of the liberal views or constitu- 
tional principles of the Whigs took up the policy of 
taxation and interference. There is no need to trace 
the progress of this j^olicy. Eacli step on the part of 
England was marked by deeper folly than its prede- 
cessor, until at last the crisis came, and the tea of 
the East India Company floated in Boston harbor. 
George III. thoroughly supported, of course, the pol- 
icy of more government and more interference ; but 
his i^rofound interest was not awakened until he was 
met by forcible opposition. Boston had ojjenly re- 
sisted the power of the crown and the power of Par- 
liament, which the king was absorbing ; and this re- 
sistance must be crushed. Whether George III. saw 
his opportunity to repeat the policy of Strafford with 
a better issue may be doubted ; but there can be no 
question that the tendency of the two schemes was 
identical, and that a victorious army, largely composed 
of mercenaries returning from the conquest of the col- 
onies, would have been a fearful menace to England. 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 107 

At all events, war was pushed on, and the world knovrs 
what came of it. George III, selected the very worst 
part of his dominions in which to bring his plans to a 
practical test. In America he had to deal, not with 
weakened aristocracy and a corrupt House of Com- 
mons, nor with a rich and extravagant society, but with 
a simple, frugal, hardy people, neither very rich nor 
very poor, free from traditions and uncontaminated by 
the vices of Europe. He was supported in his enter- 
prise by the great mass of his people at home, both 
high and low ; and there is nothing so instructive, in 
regard to the period described by Mr. Trevelyan, as 
the attitude of the people, and especially the ruling 
classes, of England toward the colonies. They saw 
neither art, literature, nor great individual wealth in 
America ; and it was assumed that the colonists were 
therefore poor, ignorant, and sordid. They utterly 
failed to see that the average of education in the col- 
onies by any standard of that day was high ; and they 
found out only by hard experience that the Ameri- 
cans were keen politicians, thoroughly versed in con- 
stitutional principles, and capable of parliamentary 
debate and of state papers beyond anything which 
could be produced at that moment by an English 
ministry. But of all their blunders the most imbecile 
and fatuous was the assumption that the Americans, 
that the Virginian gentlemen and the New England 
descendants of the Roundheads, would not fight ; that 
they were cowards. Lord Sandwich, perhaps the 
most contemptible of all the contemptible men then 



108 STUDIES IN HISTORY 

in public life, gave utterance to this profound senti- 
ment, and there is every reason to suppose that it met 
with general concuri-ence. Ignorance of other people 
and arrogance toward them have been responsible for 
almost all the misfortunes and errors of England, but 
they never cost her so much as in 1776. 

There was, too, a fatal defect in George's policy. 
It had in English society an excellent field for work ; 
but the very condition of the times gave it no fit mate- 
rial for the execution of schemes of war and conquest. 
The war itself is another vigorous commentary on the 
condition of England. The recently published con- 
temporary history of the Revolution, by a New York 
Tory, who sacrificed everything, including high judi- 
cial office, to his loyalty, tells the story. The author 
attacks his rebel countrymen ; but his bitterest revil- 
ings are reserved for the English armies and generals. 
The Americans put at their head one of the greatest 
statesmen and generals that the world has ever seen. 
The English sent Gage, Howe, Clinton, Burgoyne, and 
Cornwallis to fight their battles and defeat George 
Washington. Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and 
John Jay represented the colonies abroad; but the 
names of the Englishmen who were to counteract their 
diplomacy are forgotten. There is no need to pursue 
the comparison. It is always the same story. 

The revolution which had been preparing in Eng- 
land burst in America ; and England was saved from 
George III., from the schemes of prerogative, and 
perhaps from civil war. The surrender at Yorktown 



THE EARLY DAYS OF FOX. 109 

brought the fall of Lord North. The Rockingham 
Whigs came into power ; but they were too weak, 
their day had passed, and the death of Lord Rock- 
ingham, with some justice called a " poor creature " 
by the ever genial Horace Walpole, was enough to 
shatter them. There was a vigorous effort for reform, 
for the storm of the American war cleared the air ; 
but it failed. Then came the infamous coalition, and 
George III., helpless before an " arrangement " which 
he had thought to have made impossible, under the 
guidance of Pitt, appealed at last to the people. This 
was the finishing' stroke of the revolution. Georg^e 
III. and the coalition in reality fell together, and the 
history of England began to flow in new channels ; 
checked and impeded and of sluggish current at first, 
but moving steadily in harmony with the democratic 
tendencies of the age. The great questions underlying 
all are why George III. could try such a policy with 
a prospect of success ; and why the inevitable and 
needed change came by a revolution so sweeping that 
it cost England thirteen colonies, millions of treasure, 
and a glory which a few years before had dazzled the 
world. The answers are well given by Mr. Trevel- 
yan in his picture of the early days of Fox. 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 



It is rather surprising that the recent biography of 
William Cobbett^ should have attracted apparently 
so little attention in this country. Cobbett not only 
had a very remarkable and interesting life, but he also 
played an important, though well-nigh forgotten, part 
in early American politics. lie was one of the found- 
ers of our party press, and by far the ablest ; and his 
brief but stormy career in Philadelphia casts a strong 
side-light upon the politics of the day and the history 
of the time. But a much broader and deeper interest 
is attached to Cobbett in another way. He was, in his 
way, the " abstract and brief chronicle " of the violent 
controversies engendered by the French Revolution, of 
the forces which that mighty convulsion let loose, and 
of the consequent struggles and changes produced in 
England. Cobbett was essentially and in every re- 
spect a typical and representative man. He was the 
type of the mass of Englishmen, the exponent of a 
great social and political conflict, and the represen- 
tative of the passions, hopes, and aspirations which 
agitated the English people at the beginning of the 
nineteenth century. There have been many great 

1 William Cobbett : A Biography. By Edward Smith. 1878. 



WILLIAM COBBETT. HI 

men at all stages of the world's history, but very few 
thor6ughly representative men on the largest scale. 
As a rule, indeed, no one very great man is represen- 
tative. The fact of his genius, of his ability to do 
great deeds and forecast the future, raises him so far 
above his fellow-men that, however much he may un- 
derstand his time and the people about him, he fails to 
represent or, more exactly, to reproduce them. Napo- 
leon was a man of almost unbounded genius, yet he 
was not representative except in a very limited way. 
William Cobbett had strong natural abilities, but he 
was no genius ; and nevertheless he was thoroughly 
and completely representative. His fame rests upon 
the extent of his constituency and his faithful repro- 
duction of their ideas and wishes ; and it is in this 
capacity that he acquires historical importance. 

There has never been a man for whose biography 
more abundant materials existed. His success, act- 
ing upon an impulsive and vigorous nature and a half- 
educated mind, produced a most intense egotism. He 
was so deeply impressed by his own career, and by the 
obstacles he had overcome through dogged persistence 
and sheer force of character, that he firmly believed 
nothing to be more generally interesting or more 
deeply instructive than the incidents of his life. His 
favorite subject, therefore, was his own biography, 
which he was continually writing and publishing, 
either entire or in detached fragments. He has, m 
consequence, left a portrait of himself as he seemed to 
himself, which is unequaled in vividness and fullness 



112 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

of detail. We know just what he thought, said, and 
did at every moment of his eventful history, and are 
thus enabled to draw a jjicture of the man, very dif- 
ferent from his own, it is true, but which is probably 
more accurate. 

The description which Lord St. Leonards gave of 
himself when he told his constituents that he had, 
" like themselves, sprung from the dregs of the peo- 
ple," would hardly be applicable to Cobbett, but the 
parentage of the future agitator was certainly very 
humble. Cobbett's grandfather was a day-laborer, and 
his father a small farmer ; and yet, although his im- 
mediate ancestry was obscure, he could boast that he 
was the pure-blooded descendant of a mighty line. He 
belonged to the great family of the conunon people of 
England, and was a thorough Saxon in every nerve 
and fibre. Those men were his ancestors whose bodies 
lay piled in a rampart round the dragon of Wessex 
when night fell upon the battle-field of Hastings, and 
he could claim descent from the bowmen whose ar- 
row-flights had shattered the ranks of the French at 
Cressy, and resisted the charge of the French knight- 
hood at Agincourt. A few generations later, and 
they were following Hampden to the field, and scatter- 
ing the cavaliers at Marston Moor. They were the 
men who, as Macaulay says, " drove before them in 
headlong route the finest infantry of Spain." They 
built up Virginia in the wilderness, and followed 
Bradford and Winthrop to the rocks of New England. 

It was the strong sense of the worth and glory of 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 113 

the race and class to which he belonged which was the 
underlying principle of Cobbett's life, and no man 
had a better right to it. In every way he was typical, 
physically and mentally. The round, rosy, rather 
heavy face, the flaxen hair, the powerfid and thick- 
set frame, the general air of hearty animal vigor, — 
all bespeak his nationality ; and mmd and character 
corresponded to the body which inclosed them. In 
every incident of Cobbett's life, the sturdy, stubborn 
persistence, the love of home and independence, the 
delight in fighting for fighting's sake, and the utter 
incapacity to recognize defeat, — all of which mark 
the Anglo-Saxon, — come out with wonderful clear- 
ness, and form a combination of qualities for which 
one may look in vain among other nations. Such a 
character has, of course, grave defects. Its possessors 
are apt to be narrow, slow of perception, brutal at 
times, and neither adaptable nor adroit. But it is 
preeminently a character of force, fitted for conquest, 
government, and freedom ; and its results can be esti- 
mated by the place which the English speech and the 
English race hold to-day in the world, and by the 
magnitude of the states they have erected and the 
wealth and power they control. 

William Cobbett was born in Suri'ey in the year 
17G2, and there his early years were passed. He 
followed the plow, worked in the fields, became a 
gardener's lad, and led a wholesome rustic life. A 
large part of his education was in the training of eye 
and ear, of hand and body, which an active country 



114 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

life alone affords. It was a bringing up to which he 
always looked back with pride and gratitude, and he 
tells its story in a blunt, denunciatory, egotistic fashion 
so characteristic of himself that it merits quotation. 
He is speaking, late in life, of a sand-hill in the neigh- 
borhood of his home, down the steep sides of which he 
and his brothers were wont to roU : " This was the 
spot where I was receiving my education ; and this was 
the sort of education. And I am perfectly satisfied 
that if I had not received such an education, or some- 
thing very much like it, — that if I had been brought 
up a milksop, with a nursery maid everlastingly at my 
heels, — I should have been at this day as great a fool, 
as inefficient a mortal, as any of those frivolous idiots 
that are turned out from ^^^inchester and Westminster 
School, or from any of those dens of dunces called col- 
leges and universities. It is impossible to say how 
much I owe to that sand-hill ; and I want to return it 
my thanks for the ability which it probably gave me 
to be one of the greatest terrors to one of the greatest 
and most powerful bodies of knaves and fools that ever 
were permitted to afflict this or any other country." 

But, underneath this physical and moral training, a 
mental education was also in progress. In rude and 
broken fashion Cobbett acquired the rudiments of 
learning, and the ability to read brought an intense 
craving for information to an unusually active in= 
tellect. The power of the inborn love of books and 
knowledge has rarely had a more striking example 
than when Cobbett, a tired plowboy, expended his 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 115 

last pennies in purchasing the " Tale of a Tub," and 
went hungry to bed under a haystack after reading 
his dearly-bought treasure as long as daylight lasted. 
But when the gates of knowledge were once thrown 
open, Cobbett's restless energy broke forth, and he 
chafed sorely at the narrowness of rural existence. 
He sought his fortune in London, and, moved by his 
strong love of country, tried in vain to enter the navy, 
and later, with better success, enlisted in the army. 
For eight years he served as a soldier, rising by steadi- 
ness, sobriety, and application to the highest grade of 
non-commissioned officers. Neither hardship, incessant 
drill, low company, nor miserable pay could daunt his 
untiring industry. He perfected himself in gram- 
mar, made himself a master of his own language, and 
read many books. In the army, too, he obtained his 
first and most painful insight into the corruption, 
inefficiency, and favoritism which then degraded and 
disgraced every branch of the English service, civil 
and military. He gave in his own person the best 
proof of the low condition of affairs, for he gradually 
drew to himself all the various duties of administration 
pertaining to his superiors, who were too grossly ig- 
norant and incompetent to perform them. The sense 
of his own capacity thus acquired, mingled with con- 
tempt and indignation at the system which put his 
inferiors above him, turned him from a soldier into a 
reformer of vested abuses. At the end of eight years 
he resigned, returned to England, married, and pre- 
pared to put in execution a long-deferred plan for the 



116 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

exposure and punisliment of certain officers of high 
rank. His case was without a flaw ; but he knew 
little of the world, and still less of the power of the 
evil which he aimed to redress. He was put off, de- 
luded, and ill-treated, until his efforts for reform seem- 
ing only to promise his own ruin he fled to France, 
and abandoned his first assault in despair. 

From France, after a short sojourn, he emigrated to 
the United States, and in the year 1792 established 
himself at Wilmington, and soon after at Philadelphia, 
as a teacher of English. The demand for such in- 
struction and the character of his pupils show curiously 
the condition of the time. His scholars were French 
(imigr^s, and Cobbett found himself in the midst of 
the agitation which the events in Paris had started 
in the United States. For some time he quietly at- 
tended to his work of teaching and translating, and 
wrote an English grammar for the use of Frenchmen, 
which, for practical purposes, has seldom been sur- 
passed. But, as the combat thickened, the innate 
love of fighting and the strong, conservative English 
hatred of the atrocities in Paris asserted themselves, 
and Cobbett rushed into the fray. His first theme 
was the reception given to Dr. Priestley on his arrival 
in New York. This pamphlet was entitled " Observa- 
tions on Dr. Priestley's Emigration," and was simply 
a powerful invective against the French Revolution. 
" System-mongers," says Cobbett, " are an unreason- 
able species of mortals ; time, place, climate. Nature 
itself, must give vv^ay. They must have the same 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 117 

governments in every quarter of the globe, when, 
perhaps, there are not two countries which can pos- 
sibly admit o£ the same form of government at the 
same time. . . . Even supposing his [Dr. Priestley's] 
intended plan of improvement had been the best in 
the world, the people of England had certainly a right 
to reject it. He claims, as an indubitable right, the 
right of thinking for others ; and yet he will not per- 
mit the people of England to think for themselves. 
... If the English choose to remain slaves, bigots, 
and idolaters, as the Doctor calls them, that was no 
business of his ; he had nothing to do with them. Pie 
should have let them alone, and perhaps in due time 
the abuses of their government would have come to 
that ' natural termination ' which he trusts ' will guard 
against future abuses.' But no, said the Doctor, 'I 
will reform you ; I will enlighten jon ; I will make you 
free ! ' ' You shall not ! ' say the people. ' But I will ! ' 

says the Doctor. ' By ,' say the people, ' you shall 

not ! ' ' Ajid when Ahithophel saw that his counsel 
was not followed, he saddled Ms ass, and arose, and 
got him home to his house and his city, and put his 
household in order, and hanged himself and died; 
and tvas buried in the sepidchre of his fathers.^ " 

The argument might be illogical, but the pamphlet 
had an unmistakable power, and there could be no 
doubt at all as to the plain, nervous style, the simple 
English, and the robust sense of the writer. The 
sale of the pamphlet was immediate and large, and 
Cobbett's future course was open before him. His 



118 ^ STUDIES IN- HISTORY. 

peculiar fitness for rough conflict was obvious, and his 
career as a popular political controversialist began. 
Pamphlet followed pamphlet ; then came his reports of 
the doings of Congress, and finally " Porcupine's Ga- 
zette." Thus Cobbett was fairly embarked upon the 
stormy sea of newspaper controversy. The field had 
been occupied first by the " Aurora," which under the 
guidance of Baclie and Duane had for some time a 
monopoly of partisan attacks, and much the advan- 
tage of the defenders of the government, so far as 
the power of the press was concerned. All this was 
changed by the appearance of Cobbett. The ques- 
tion of revolution and anti-revolution prmciples had 
gradally resolved itself into the more concrete form 
of England and France, and the strict neutrality of 
the government had led to violent abuse of all the 
members of the administration, including Washing- 
ton, as partisans of the hated mother country. A bold 
man was needed to combat the popular prejudices, but 
Cobbett was fully equal to the emergency. He not 
only supported the administration measures, the neu- 
trality policy, and the Jay treaty, but he even dared to 
defend England as against France. The rage of the 
opposition thus confronted knew no bounds. Mobs 
and libel suits were among the rewards of the hardy 
Englishman ; but he also gained the support and coun- 
tenance of a powerful and energetic party among the 
ultra-Federalists, to whom he rendered efficient aid, al- 
though it must be admitted he ultimately injured their 
cause by liis extreme opinions. In Cobbett the ga- 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 119 

zettes of the Democracy and o£ the French sympathiz- 
ers found a foeman who overcame them with their 
own weapons, and in this wild turmoil the party press 
of the United States came into being. There is a com- 
mon and generally wholesome inclination in man to be 
laudator temjjoris acti, and this is especially strong 
in regard to a period which by the talents of the actors 
and the magnitude of their achievements is confessedly 
great, — as was in a marked degree the case with the 
United States in the years subsequent to the adoption 
of the Federal Constitution. But in respect to our 
newspaper press there has been a great and marked 
improvement. This applies, not merely to news and 
to the quality of writing, but still more to the general 
tone of discussion. The gazettes of Cobbett's time 
were wholly given over to political controversy of the 
most personal and savage kind. Abuse and scurrility 
are, unfortunately, not wanting to-day in our journals, 
and in certain semi-civilized regions of the South and 
West they probably do not fall far behind their pred- 
ecessors of 1795 in these undesirable qualities. But 
Cobbett and his adversaries wrote for and edited the 
metropolitan press of the time ; and it may be safely 
said that in no respectable newspaper in any large city 
now can such virulent and unmeasured vituperation be 
often found as was daily spread before the readers of 
the journals which attempted to guide public opinion 
in this country at the close of the last century and the 
beginning of this. Here, for instance, is a remark 
made upon one of Cobbett's early pamphlets : " Nar 



120 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tiire must have had the hysterics when you were born ; 
mastiffs howled, and owls sang anthems to congratu- 
late you into existence, and your jaws must have been 
furnished with indissoluble tusks, expressive of the 
disposition that was inspired within you." He was 
habitually denounced as a rogue, a deserter from the 
army, a thief, a forger, and a garret scribbler. Tar 
and feathers were frequently threatened in order to 
send him howling back to England, while a very far 
vorite method of assault was to describe elaborately 
the whippings he had received. Even his wife was 
not spared in the general abuse but was mentioned in 
the plainest terms as one of the vilest of her sex. A 
constant charge was to the effect that he was a hire- 
ling of Pitt, and a receiver of British gold, — an ac- 
cusation which stung Cobbett to the quick, and led 
him to publish a careful and conclusive reply ; but 
he generally satisfied himself by counter-assaults. At 
the time of Randolph's trouble, and his so-called " vin- 
dication," Cobbett says of the Democrats : " They 
have had address sufficient to stir the mob to burn 
the greatest part of the Federal senators in effigy ; 
they have dared publicly and vilely to traduce the 
President of the United States ; their own president 
has been elected a member of the legislature of Penn- 
sylvania ; the legislature of Virginia has declared in 
their favor; and a fresh importation of thieves and 
traitors from Ireland is daily exj^ected to ^rrive. 
These are great and solid advantages." Here is an- 
other retort : " The enemies of the President of the 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 121 

United States, and of the Federal government, pre- 
tend to be affronted that a man born in England 
should presume to say a civil thing of the character of 
George Washington. The consistency of this will ap- 
pear when the j)ublic are assured that very few of the 
abusive scribblers who slander his reputation have 
one drop of American blood in their veins." He con- 
cluded in the following manner a prolonged contro- 
versy with his first publisher and other antagonists : 
" I now take leave of the Bradfords, and of all those 
who have written against me. People's opinions must 
now be made up concerning them and me. Those 
who still believe the lies that they have vomited forth 
against me are either too stupid or too perverse to 
merit further attention. I will, therefore, never write 
another word in reply to anything that is published 
about myself. Bark away, hell-hounds, until you are 
suffocated in your own foam ! Your labors are pre- 
served, bomid up together in a piece of bear-skin with 
the hair on, and nailed up to a post in my shop, where 
whoever pleases may read them gratis." 

Cobbett was more than a match for his opponents 
individually and collectively. He was fully as coarse 
as they and much more original and racy, with a far 
better command of language and no mean cajDacity for 
very telling satire. He was, too, perfectly fearless and 
wholly unrestrained, either by the terrors of the mob 
or the law. It was a mere question of time, of course, 
how soon he got into the courts. The first attempt, 
stimulated by Chief Justice McKean, was made to in- 



122 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

diet him for a libel on Yrujo, the Spanish minister ; 
but the grand jury threw out the bill. Not long after, 
however, another attack was more successful. Dr. 
Rush advocated, during the prevalence of the yellow 
fever, the practice of unlimited bleeding, and Cobbett 
not only assailed him in his usual unmeasured fash- 
ion, but succeeded in making the worthy physician, 
who was then at the head of his profession in Philadel- 
phia, extremely ridiculous. Justly incensed, Dr. Rush 
brought an action of libel, and the jury awarded him 
damages to the amount of five thousand dollars. This 
and the expenses of the trial nearly ruined Cobbett, 
who took his departure for New York, reopened his 
shop, and attempted once more to start his gazette. 
He published also a newspaper entitled the " Rush- 
light," devoted to his controversy with tlf^ Doctor, 
which shows rather strikingly the interest that he and 
his affairs excited in the popular mind. Nevertheless, 
the pecuniary blow and the defeat in the courts were 
too much for him, and in June, 1800, he returned to 
England. 

Mr. Smith, Cobbett's biographer, represents his hero 
as the champion of the liberty of the press in the 
United States, and takes great exception also to the 
popular prejudice against him on account of his being 
an Englishman. Both the opinion and the criticism 
are unfounded and wrong. As to the first point, it 
shoidd be remembered that mobs and libel suits were 
then the recognized method of meeting political attacks 
in the press, and on the only occasion when Cobbett 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 123 

was actually brought before the courts on a political 
charge the jury threw out the bill. In the case of Dr. 
Rush the libel suit was perfectly proper, and would 
be so to-day ; and the fact that Cobbett was right on a 
point of medical practice, and the Doctor wrong, does 
not touch the question in the least. Broken windows 
and public prosecutions are rude methods of conduct- 
ing political discussions, but they were everywhere 
fashionable in the eighteenth century and were partic- 
ularly so in London. They certainly did not restrain 
Cobbett's freedom of speech materially, and he was but 
one of many who defied them, and paved the way for 
their disuse. Cobbett, indeed, suffered far less than 
his opponents ; and the scurrilous Callender, who went 
to prison for his famous and abusive " Prospect before 
us," really endured much more than Cobbett in behalf 
of what Mr. Smith styles the " liberty of the Press." 

That Cobbett should have been disliked because he 
was an Englishman was, under the circumstances, not 
only natural but proper. No people with an ounce of 
self-respect care to be lectured daily by a foreigner 
about their own affairs ; and Cobbett not only did 
this, but he refused to be naturalized, and dinned into 
the public ear the fact that he was an Englishman, 
and proposed to remain so. This conduct rightly di- 
minished his influence, which was a misfortune to all, 
and especially to the party he supported and to which 
he proved, at times, a very dangerous ally. It is as a 
founder of our party press, and as an exponent of our 
party politics at a momentous period, that Cobbett ac- 



124 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

quires interest and importance as a figure in Amer- 
ican history, and not as the champion of free speech. 
The manner, matter, and method of his controversies 
are very striking and suggestive, and exhibit in a 
strong light the deep political enmities of the day 
and the crude forms of popular discussion then in 
vogue. That Cobbett rendered yeoman's service to 
a sound policy and a great administration in trying 
times entitles him to a special debt of gratitude, and 
must always be unquestioned ; but it is much to be 
regretted that he acted throughout as an Englishman, 
and that the ablest newspaper support received by the 
Federalists was not above the reproach justly leveled 
at the Democratic journals, that they were managed 
and edited by foreign adventurers. 

Cobbett turned his back on America with a heart 
full of bitterness, and with deep curses upon all Re- 
publics, ancient and modern, and his reception in 
England, while it confirmed all these prejudices, did 
much to allay the smart of the losses to which he had 
been subjected in the United States. He found him- 
self welcomed by Mr. Pitt and by all the leaders of 
the Tory aristocracy. His services in alienating the 
United States from France, and in sustaining the Eng- 
lish cause, received prompt and hearty recognition, 
which so touched him that he enlisted at once under 
the Tory standard as one of the followers of the 
" heaven-born " statesman. It was an ill-assorted alli- 
ance, for except a hatred of Bonaparte and the French 
Revolution, Cobbett had nothing in common with the 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 125 

Tory aristocracy, and the combination of two sucli dis- 
cordant elements could not and did not last lonsf. 
The peace of Amiens parted the slender ties, and Cob- 
bett drifted over to the Whigs, and finally settled down 
to what was his real work, — domestic reform. " The 
Political Register " became a power in the land, and 
in season and out of season Cobbett poured forth, in 
nervous English, one attack after the other upon the 
unreformed Parliament, the corrupt civil service, the 
waste and extravagance, the sinecures, the placemen, 
the game laws, and the income of the Church. 
Through that long and arduous struggle it would be 
impossible to follow him without tracing the history of 
England for the first thirty years of this century. 
The idtra-Federalist and conservative of America be- 
came the radical whose name was a by- word in Eng- 
land. He was fined and imprisoned by one Tory gov- 
ernment, he was driven into exile in the United States 
by another, and he was finally brought into court on 
a charge of libel by the Whigs. His life was one in- 
cessant conflict ; but the wonderful pluck of the man 
and his utter inability to recognize defeat came out 
after each straggle more vital than before. With each 
successive year he was reaching out farther among 
the people, and opening their eyes more and more to 
the oppression and misgovernment under which they 
labored. Leading articles in his newspaper, pam- 
phlets, books, letters, and addresses flowed from his 
pen, possessed apparently of an absolutely inexhaust- 
ible fertility. He spoke at last to the whole body of 



126 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the English common people, not as a master, but as 
one in full sympathy, who had himself their thoughts 
and aspirations, who saw with their eyes and felt their 
burdens on his own shoulders. At last the triumph 
came. The reform for which Cobbett gave the prime 
of his life and powers was brought to pass in 1832 ; 
and its great champion, the man who had cried for it 
during the lifetime of a generation, was returned to 
the new Parliament. His career as a legislator was 
not distinguished. He was a patient and useful mem- 
ber, but he was too old to adapt himself to the new 
sphere. The late sittings and the confined life told 
upon his health, and three years after the " famous 
victory " he died. The seat in Parliament was a fit 
reward and an appropriate close to his labors, for his 
presence at Westminster, with his opinions unaltered, 
showed the change that had been wrought and the 
work that had been done in England, and they were 
due in large measure to the steady assaults of the 
Surrey plowboy. 

The most interesting lesson of this remarkable ca- 
reer, crowned as it was with such complete triumph, 
lies in the methods used by Cobbett, and the objects 
at which he aimed. Bitterly as he hated the French 
Revolution, he was himself an exponent of the social 
and political forces which gave it birth, and which ag- 
itated the whole western world. He was a leader in 
the great democratic movement which then began its 
rapid march, and which has been sweeping resistlessly 
onward ever since. The Enoiand of Cobbett's time 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 127 

was the Eldonian England, the paradise of the few as 
opposed to the well-being of the many; and the few 
very naturally and very wisely clung to their privi- 
leges, and offered a firm resistance to every change. 
They were formidable and determined adversaries, 
and they held their own against the current of the 
times for forty years. Cobbett was the champion of 
the masses against the aristocracy. He was, moreover, 
sjirung from the people, and he is one of the very few 
really great popular leaders of whom this can be said. 
The professional agitators and the fomenters of popu- 
lar discontent are, as a rule, men from the upper 
ranks, who have been rejected by their natural allies, 
and who are only too often vengeful, deceitful, and 
self-seeking. Cobbett was not only one of the class 
that he led, but what is far more extraordinary he was 
not a demagogue, but was from the beginning to the 
end wholly independent and perfectly disinterested. 
He never pandered to the people, he never stirred up 
their passions to serve his own ambition ; and he had 
also in ample measure the inborn conservatism of his 
race. He never advocated a change for its own sake, 
but was always able and ready to prove its practical ad- 
vantages. But his thoroughly English nature showed 
itself still more strongly in another way. He always de- 
clared that he not only admired and loved the British 
constitution, but that his one object was not to inno- 
vate but to reform. He aimed to bring back the gov- 
ernment to the original model and purpose from which 
it had gradually drifted. In other words, his theory 



128 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

was to restore the political fabric to its ancient form, 
and not to destroy what was old in order to replace it 
with something new. This theory is unquestionably 
a fiction historically. Reform was innovation. But 
the doctrine represents one of the soundest principles 
that any peojjle can possess. When the Long Parlia- 
ment, at open war with the king, still continued to use 
the phrase of " King and Parliament," and assailed 
" his majesty's evil counsellors " and not Charles Stu- 
art himself, they were indulging in what was pure fic- 
tion so far as facts went. But this clinging to usages 
and phrases and theories, this very contradiction be- 
tween words and deeds, typifies the slow temperament, 
the law-abiding and law-loving character, and the al- 
most blind attachment to precedent which prove the 
political wisdom of the race. These are the qualities 
which have made the English a gi'eat political and 
governing people, and which divide them from the 
nations of Europe ; and it was with this spirit that 
Cobbett was wholly filled. There never was a time 
when he would have admitted for an instant that he 
sought for something new. That the constitution had 
been distorted and abused, and that his object was 
simply to restore it to its primitive excellence and pu- 
rity, was not only his constant declaration but his 
rooted conviction ; and it was this belief which made 
his career honorable and his efforts siiccessful. 

Cobbett's courage, patriotism, independence, and 
singleness of heart and purpose are obvious at a 
glance ; and so are his faults, for there is nothing in- 
tricate or subtle about the man. His low beginnings. 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 129 

his half -education, his wonderful success, and the in- 
toxication of unbounded popular influence developed 
an egotism that was simply colossal. It is not offen- 
sive, for it is so gigantic, so simple, and so apparent 
that no one can be angered by it. But, united as it 
was with a hot head and an impetuous disposition, it 
made Cobbett not only impracticable in the active 
management of affairs, but utterly unable to work with 
others. He quarreled with every one with whom he 
came in contact, whenever there was any question of 
leadership or diffei'ence of views. He would never 
sacrifice an opinion or alter a plan. 

" As Alexander he would reign, and he would reign alone." 

This inability to deal with his fellow-men warped his 
character and diminished his usefulness, or rather con- 
fined it to the one field where it was much better that 
he should act alone and upon his own unaided judg- 
ment. 

Lord Dalling, in his very clever sketch of Cobbett 
as the " contentious man," censures with great sever- 
ity his inconsistency, and his latest biographer deems 
it necessary to defend him from this charge. The 
accusation is a misconception, the defense superflu- 
ous. When the Abbe Sieyes was asked what he did 
during the reign of terror, he replied, " J'ai vecu," — 
and the exploit was one of which any man might well 
be proud. To have been politically consistent in Eng- 
land during the era of the French Revolution and the 
Napoleonic wars would be as gTeat a boast ; and we 



130 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

have never wondered at Lord Eldon's delight when 
the mob cried out, " There 's old Eldon ! He never 
ratted." Consistency at that period, besides being a 
doubtful virtue, was a great rarity ; and to a man like 
Cobbett it was a simple impossibility, — a fetter which 
would have hindered his movements and lessened his 
usefulness, so that the want of it is no ground what- 
ever for reproach. He was always in the thickest of 
the fight, always tossing on the stormy seas of public 
opinion ; and he could not do otherwise than alter his 
course from time to time in order to attain his objects. 
At the same time he never lost sight of the beacon- 
light for which he steered ; he never trimmed his sail to 
secui-e personal benefits ; and in his devotion to what 
he believed to be the welfare of England and of the 
English people there was consistency of the best sort. 
The fate of his writings is in some ways peculiar. 
No author was ever more prolific or more widely read 
during his lifetime, and yet everything that Cobbett 
published has passed into complete oblivion. His 
newspaper articles, his pamphlets, and his books are 
all alike unread and forgotten. This fact, however, is 
one which hardly needs explanation. Cobbett was 
not a literary man ; he was a political agitator, he 
wrote exclusively upon the topics of the day, and his 
pen was simply a weapon. His productions, therefore, 
have no present or permanent interest ; and if they 
had not been ej)hemeral, but had been composed for 
posterity, they would not have answered their pur- 
pose. In two respects, however, Cobbett's writings 
have and always will have a lasting value. They are 



WILLIAM COBBETT. 131 

indispensable historical documents, for they tlirow a 
vivid light upon every passing event and upon every 
change of public opinion, and the history of the time 
cannot be written or understood without their aid. 
They have, besides, genuine literary merit. As a 
writer Cobbett belongs to the school of Swift, for 
whose " Tale of a Tub " he sacrificed his supper ; but 
he is far from being Swift's equal, for the Dean was 
a great genius and Cobbett was not. The pupil has 
neither the refinements of style nor the keenness of 
satire for which the master is still preeminent. But 
Cobbett possessed in ample measure Swift's simplicity 
of diction and. strength of phrase, and he used pure 
Saxon to an extent and with a power which is well 
worth study at the present day. The great superior- 
ity of a plain nervous English style in argument of 
any sort, and above all in political controversy, al-_ 
though sufficiently demonstrated by the " Drapier's 
Letters," receives ample confirmation in the writings 
of Cobbett. Both Swift and Cobbett far surpass 
Junius, despite the pointed and poisoned sentences 
and the attractive mystery which has done so much 
for the anonymous writer. 

It is not, however, as an author that Cobbett will 
take his place in history. It is as the typical English- 
man of the revolutionary epoch, as the founder of the 
reform movement, as the friend of liberty and good 
government, and above all as the true and thorough 
representative of the English common people in a 
time of great stress and trial, that he will be held in 
deserved remembrance. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 



" Orator, Writer, Soldier, Jurist, Financier," are 
the words engraved upon the monument in Boston 
raised to the memory of Alexander Hamilton. False 
as monumental inscriptions proverbially are, few per- 
sons would deny that Hamilton may justly claim dis- 
tinction under all the titles in this imposing list. 
How much and how high the distinction he attained 
in these several capacities are the only questions to 
be settled, but the answers may well tax severely the 
strongest and clearest judgment. Tradition says that 
in the bitterness of personal and political conflict one 
of Hamilton's chief enemies declared that " he never 
could see what there was in that little West Indian 'V 
while his other great opponent, possessing a far keener 
insight into human nature, pronounced him " really a 
Colossus to the anti-Republican party." ^ Public opin- 
ion to-day might not coincide exactly with either esti- 
mate, but would certainly more nearly approach the 
latter than the former. But with whatever views or 
with whatever prejudices one comes to the study of 
Hamilton's career, it is no easy matter to write his 
life. To analyze Hamilton's character is the simplest 

1 John Adams. 

2 Thomas Jefferson : Letter to Madison, Woi-ks, vol. iv. p. 121. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 133 

part of such an undertaking. His was not a com- 
plex nature, and like many great men, especially those 
of strongly masculine qualities, the mental lines are 
clear, direct, and easily followed. The first difficulty 
is to estimate his worth and the measure of his success 
in the many fields of human intelligence which he en- 
tered, for of all the leaders of our versatile people, no 
one except Franklin has displayed so much versatility 
as Hamilton. The ability to appreciate and properly 
criticise him, under all aspects and in all his varying 
pursuits, demands a breadth of knowledge, a liberality 
of education, and a strength of mental grasp which 
are by no means common. Yet the second difficulty, 
which arises in considering Hamilton's outside rela- 
tions with the men and circumstances by which he 
was surrounded, is far greater than the fkst. Not 
only did Hamilton formulate and carry through a pol- 
icy which gave existence to our government, and take 
a principal j^art against the opposition thus aroused, 
but his history fairly bristles with controversies and 
is inextricably interwoven with bitter personal quar- 
rels. No biographer has an easy task, but Mr. Morse 
has selected one of peculiar difficulty.^ The " Life of 
Hamilton," by his son, is but a fragment which stops 
short of the great period in his career ; and the sub- 
sequent work by the same author is not a life but a 
history, and one so detailed as to be useless except to 
specialists. There was nothing to be undone, and no 

^ The Life of Alexander Hamilton. By Jolm T. Morse, Jr. 
Boston, 1876. 



134 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

bad work to be done over again. Mr. Morse, there- 
fore, had the advantage of a clear field in which there 
was no predecessor. To be so situated is fortunate, 
but the position is one which greatly increases respon- 
sibility. To err in an attempt to correct old errors is 
far better than to propagate wholly new ones. To fail 
in repairing work already done is a less evil than bad 
and insufficient construction where nothing has been 
accomplished. In the one case the matter can hardly 
be worse than it was before ; in the other errors are 
sown in fresh soil, and on the future historian devolves 
the disagreeable and difficult task of exposing and de- 
stroying them. 

To but few men has the power been given to write, 
in the highest sense of the words, a history at once 
scientific and popular ; and the same is true in a 
still greater degree, perhaps, of biographies. A few 
" Lives " have satisfied the demands of the student and 
historian as well as those of the general public, but 
they are landmarks in literature which occupy a great 
and singularly lonely eminence. Between the perfect 
and the wholly bad there is of course a wide range, 
and perhaps in regard to some works time alone, not 
the contemporaneous critic, can decide whether they 
have or have not elements of permanent interest. 

Mr. Morse has given us a very readable and popu- 
lar " Life of Hamilton." This may be fairly conceded, 
and for this we are duly grateful. It is well that the 
life of sucil a man should be put into an accessible 
form. To write a purely popular book thoroughly 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 135 

well, moreover, is by no means easy ; and yet to say 
even this of any new book is but scant praise, with 
which no author ought to be content. Mr. Morse cer- 
tainly would not be satisfied by such a kind of pat- 
ronage, for he has evidently tried to do much more 
than merely popularize. It is fairer and more profit- 
able to look at the book as a whole, without taking it 
up in detail, and without pretending to weigh out a]> 
plause here and blame there, or to make a cheap dis- 
play of knowledge by burrowing after blunders. We 
can best judge of Mr. Morse's work by briefly exam- 
ining the character and career of his hero. 

Hamilton's precocity was very striking, even in 
an age and country remarkable for precocious men. 
When only fourteen years old he conducted, in the 
absence of his employer, the complicated and quite 
extensive business of a West India merchant. At 
eighteen years, while still a college student, he wrote 
two of the most successful controversial political pam- 
phlets which appeared at a time when that form of 
agitation was used by the ablest men, and when there 
were not only vigorous enemies to be encountered, but 
eager and friendly rivals to be surpassed. At the 
same age he had the courage to address excited public 
meetings, and to restrain by cool arguments, at the 
risk of his life, the frenzies of the mob. It is very 
significant that a boy of that age, slight in stature, 
and a stranger in the land, should have been able, on 
such occasions, to speak successfully. But the hur- 
ried march of revolution quickly presented opportuni- 



136 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

ties more tempting to a man of liis temperament than 
college studies or political controversy. He laid aside 
the pen to take up the sword, and, after a year of effi- 
cient service at the head of the company he had 
raised, was picked out by Washington to serve as his 
confidential aide. Even at that early period of their 
friendship, Washington employed Hamilton to draft 
many of his important letters, and intrusted him with 
most delicate and trying missions. Nothing, however, 
in the intercourse of these two men during the revo- 
lution, nothing indeed in all Hamilton's career, gives 
such a vivid idea of his intellectual power as his 
quarrel with Washington in 1781. The whole af- 
fair, properly considered, is a very striking one, al- 
though Mr. Morse apparently regards it merely as 
an obvious and trifling disagreement. Such it was 
on the surface ; but if examined carefully, with due 
regard to the characters of the participants, it is full 
of meaning. The quarrel has now become famous 
and its outlines are simple. The young aide kept 
his general waiting, or at least the latter thought so, 
and reproved him for his delay with some asperity. 
Whereupon the young gentleman drew himself up 
and said they must part. In explanation of his con- 
duct he wrote the well-known letter to Schuyler in 
which he expressed general disapproval of Washing- 
ton's personal address, manners, and temper. Wash- 
ington, on the other hand, made an immediate over- 
ture towards reconciliation, which was rejected by 
Hamilton, who, having at a subsequent period got 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 137 

over his bad temper, applied to Wasliington for as- 
sistance. Washington at once received him kindly, 
and their friendship was never again interrupted. 
What is the true explanation of this singular action ? 
Hamilton's part is easily accounted for. He was hot- 
tempered and self-asserting, and the tone of his letter, 
as well as the cold-blooded manner in which he used 
the pretext afforded by this trivial disagreement in 
order to quit what he chose to consider an inferior 
position, do not place him in a very amiable light. 
Washington's conduct is more difficult to understand. 
He had spoken sharply, as he had a perfect right to 
do, to a tardy aide-de-camp. Yet he put himself to 
some trouble and to some sacrifice of personal feeling 
to conciliate a proud, overbearing boy. The picture 
of Washington, before whose very glance so hardy a 
man as Gouverneur Morris is said to have shrunk 
away abashed, faced by an angry stripling whom he 
afterwards sought to appease, is an extraordinary 
one. Such a course seems to admit of but one solu- 
tion. Washington in this instance appears, not as 
the great man who sees and acknowledges a wrong, 
for he had committed none, but as the wise man who 
declines for a trivial gratification to drive a friend 
of force and ability into revolt. This view can add 
nothing to our admiration of Washington's judgment, 
but it is of value in appreciating the mastering power 
of Hamilton's mind at that early period, and there 
is no other incident which shows so clearly the im- 
pression he produced on his contemporaries. 



138 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Mr. Morse has passed lightly over Hamilton's mili- 
tary career, and in so doing has acted wisely. The 
revolutionary period is the most picturesque part of 
our history. Every actor in it is known, and every 
battle-field familiar. To describe Hamilton's mission 
to Gates, his conduct at Monmouth, his reception of 
D'Estaing, is not necessary. Nor need his biographer 
quote the vigorous yet pathetic description of the 
flight of Arnold and the execution of Andre, for this 
has become classic. Still less is it needful to detail 
the attack at Yorktown. Americans know well how 
Hamilton led his countrymen across the abattis and 
captured in nine minutes one of the British redoubts 
whose fellow occupied our French allies half an hour. 
The merest outline of Hamilton's military career is all- 
sufficient. Plis services and successes were those of an 
ardent young man, full of courage and ability ; but his 
zeal has induced many persons to greatly overestimate 
his love of military life. To a mind like his, strong, 
energetic, executive, and systematic, a military life of- 
fered many attractions. He displayed all the necessary 
qualifications of a soldier, and gave promise of becom- 
ing, if the opportunity occurred, a successful general ; 
but though his genius might have been forced by cir- 
cumstances into this channel, it would never have 
turned there naturally. This is obvious from the fact 
at no time during the war was utter absorption in 
military affairs characteristic of Hamilton. The let- 
ters to Duane, written at that period, on the forma- 
tion of a stronger government, and the remarkable 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 139 

essays on finance, addressed to Robert Morris, clearly 
show tlie bent of his mind. This army life had, how- 
ever, an important effect in strengthening his natural 
tendencies. The miserable discussions and ever-in- 
creasing impotence of Congress, its unworthy cabals 
against Washington, and its failure to perform its 
highest duties, all of which bore most hardly on the 
army, and were there most felt, filled Hamilton with 
a reasonable distrust and hatred of all weak popular 
governments. His efforts, while in Congress, in 1782- 
83, to provide for the debt, to pay off the soldiers, to 
secure proper garrisons by a new army, and to make 
public the debates of Congress, all proved fruitless, 
and served to deepen his already strong convictions. 
All his struggles came to nothing, and this drove 
him back from the hopeless task of legislation to the 
more congenial and profitable pursuit of his profes- 
sion, which for the next five years he assiduously 
practiced. He had been admitted to the bar after 
a very hasty and necessarily inadequate preparation, 
but his great powers of acquisition and his eloquence 
raised him at once to eminence as a lawyer, and 
made him strong both with bench and jury. Hamil- 
ton's mind adapted itself readily to law. To say 
how good a common lawyer he was is at this day 
impossible, if one is obliged to rely solely on the ar- 
guments which have been preserved. These are too 
few in number to warrant a conclusion, but the ques- 
tion of contemporary opinion is easily settled. His 
success was immediate and brilliant, and from the 



140 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

causes which he conducted it is clear that the first 
rank was conceded to him both by the profession 
and by the public. No one can say whether he was 
learned in the law, a scholar versed in the authori- 
ties; from his speedy preparation and the immediate 
rush of professional duties, the inference would be 
that he was not. He possessed, however, what is far 
more important in estimating his legal powers, the 
capacity in a high degree for pure, original, and sus- 
tained legal thought, and this is proved beyond a per- 
adventure. If any one wishes to test this statement, 
let him study the numerous state papers in which 
Hamilton was called upon to deal with questions of 
international law. There is in them much learning, 
but, what is of infinitely more importance, there is 
the creative power, the evidence of a mind able not 
only to develop principles, but to apply them to facts. 
Still better proof is afforded by his discussion of 
points of constitutional law, the best example of which 
is to be found in his argument on the National Bank,^ 
which can be submitted to the most severe of all tests, 
a close comparison with one of Marshall's. Let Ham- 
ilton's argument be read and then the decision in Mc- 
CuUoch vs Maryland.^ This is not the place to dis- 
cuss the constitutionality of that famous measure, but 
as a piece of legal reasoning the argument of the Sec- 
retary does not suffer v/hen put side by side with the 
luminous decision of the Chief Justice. Mr. Webster 

^ Hamilton's Works, vol. iii. p. 106. 
2 4 Wheaton, p. 316. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 141 

once said that when Marshall extended his forefintrer 
and began, " It is conceded," he saw in anticijja- 
tion all his favorite arguments falling helplessly to 
the ground. Hamilton produces the same sensation. 
If any one cares to try the experiment, in order to 
understand Marshall's greatness, let him endeavor to 
condense or confute one of his decisions. If any one 
doubts that Hamilton was a great lawyer, let him try 
the same experiment on his arguments. Success is 
no doubt possible in both cases ; but I am sure that 
in either attempt a fair-minded man will become con- 
vinced of the greatness of his opponent. I am very 
far from meaning by this that Hamilton was the equal 
of Marshall as a lawyer, for I am aware of no one 
who has rivaled the Chief Justice ; but that Hamilton 
was a great lawyer, and possessed a legal mind of the 
first order, is an opinion that admits of proof. 

Toward the close of this fii'st period of professional 
life Hamilton served in the New York Legislature, 
and the same ill success attended his efforts for better 
government there, as in Congress. At last, however, 
his exertions for a convention met with a response. 
He attended the preliminary meeting held at Annapo- 
lis, and drew up the address then issued, calling a 
convention of all the States at Philadelphia, and with 
gTcat difficulty secured afterwards the appointment of 
representatives from New York to the constitutional 
convention. This delegation, of which he was a mem- 
ber, was so composed as to render him powei'less, both 
his colleagues, Yates and Lansing, being Clintonians, 



142 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

and strong state-rights men. Hamilton's position in 
the convention was, therefore, a wholly anomalous one, 
for the vote of his State was sure. to be cast against 
every measure he favored. Mr. Morse has rightly 
described Hamilton's course in the convention as a 
purely independent one, and has not sought to make 
his efforts there the foundation of his reputation as 
the great supporter of the Constitution. Hamilton 
presented a plan differing from both those before the 
convention, and then withdrew, leaving his suggestions 
and arguments to do what good they might. His plan 
differed from the one finally adopted in only two essen- 
tial particulars, — a Senate and President during good 
behavior, and the appointment of state governors by 
the central government. Pie returned to the conven- 
tion only at its close, to use his personal influence in 
favor of the acceptance of tlie final draft. Hamilton's 
subsequent efforts to secure the adoption of the Consti- 
tution form his chief and truest claim to glory in this 
respect. Discussion of the merits or effects of the re- 
markable series of papers known as the " Federalist " 
would be superfluous. The greatest legal minds have 
set the seal of their approbation upon them ; and in 
modern times, in the formation of a great empire, 
statesmen have turned to them and to their principal 
author as the preeminent authority on the subject of 
federation. The effect of these remarkable essays, in 
converting and forming public opinion, can hardly be 
overestimated ; but Hamilton's most unalloyed tri- 
umph at this time, and one of the most brilliant of his 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 143 

life, was his victory in the New York convention held 
to ratify the Constitution. Entering that convention 
in a small minority, faced by determined opponents 
led by men of first-rate ability, Hamilton ended by 
securing the adhesion of New York, — a matter at 
that time of vital importance to the new scheme. His 
speeches on this occasion afford an excellent insight 
into his mind, and enable the reader to understand his 
powers as an orator. One looks in vain in all he then 
said for those brilliant suniles and those flights of the 
imagination which usually characterize oratory. No- 
where is there to be found an aj^peal to the emotions ; 
there is not one passage intended to sway the hearts of 
men rather than their judgments. It is all pure rea- 
soning and argument. And yet no one can read these 
speeches and not feel the mastering force of the great 
orator. How much more powerful must they have 
been to those who heard them, who could feel the in- 
fluence of the earnest nature, who could see the light 
in the dark, deep-set eyes, and catch fire from the fer- 
vid temperament of him who so reasoned with them ! 
It was the eloquence of reasoning, of arguments ad- 
dressed to men's sober second thoughts, of demonstra- 
tion of error and of the support of truth. In this 
most difficult path Hamilton succeeded. His speeches 
bore the severest of all tests, and passed triumphantly 
through the ordeal. It is almost a proverb that a 
measure is rarely carried by a speech ; Hamilton not 
only won over votes, but actually converted a hostile 
majority into a favorable one. Unaided by popular 



144 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

outcry, in a State where, on his own showing, four 
sevenths o£ the people were against him, by the 
strength of his arguments, by the splendor of his 
reasoning, he brought his opponents to his feet, con- 
fessing that he was right and they wrong. The long 
annals of English debate have few such purely intel- 
lectual triumphs to show. 

With the victory in the New York convention the 
first period of Hamilton's life closes. Rich as it was 
in results, it was still richer in promise. To the 
second period belong the fruits of that promise, which 
have given Hamilton a place among the great men of 
his age and nation, and also the errors, the sometimes 
fatal errors, which marred the results of his achieve- 
ments. To enter into an examination of Hamilton's 
course during this time, even were it as brief as tliat 
given to his early years, would be to write a history of 
the Federalist administrations. Criticism, therefore, 
must here be confined to the most salient features of 
the picture, in which two points stand out with great 
prominence ; for they are the dramatic points in this 
period of Hamilton's life. I refer, of course, to the 
financial policy which gave existence to the government 
and created a great party in its support, and to the 
conduct which resulted in the ruin of the Federalists. 
Before entering upon this discussion it becomes neces- 
sary to say a few words as to the condition of affairs 
with which the new government was called to deal, and 
also upon the component parts of the administration. 

The revolution, like all wars, especially all civil 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 145 

wars, had unsettled society, and had given a great 
shock to political habits. In this instance it had 
done even more, by destroying one of the principal ele- 
ments of society. The aristocratic, wealthy, and con- 
servative class had been almost entirely swept away. 
The American Tories, who had formed a large por- 
tion of this class, had either emigrated or had with- 
drawn silently into obscurity to avoid public reproach 
and escape the mortification of being made to feel 
that their influence was utterly gone. One of the 
balance-wheels of society and politics had thus been 
destroyed and there had not been as yet sufficient time 
to replace it. The new democracy was moving along 
its destined path, but it had no checks ; it lacked cohe- 
sion, and there was gi'eat danger that the victory of 
freedom would be lost in the anarchy of jarring states 
and by the destruction of the union on which national 
existence depended. Washington, Hamilton, and a 
few others here and there, had striven, apparently in 
vain, to stem the flood. But natural forces, stronger 
than any efforts individuals could make, were slow but 
sure allies, and in their operation made the Constitu- 
tion a possibility. Time, of course, gave opportunity 
for the gradual re-formation of the conservative ele- 
ments. New men who had acquired wealth, the rem- 
nants of the old Tory families, and intelligent and 
able men everywhere, now relieved from the stress of 
war, began again to come forward and to make their 
influence felt. This was, however, a very slow process, 
and alone would have been insufficient to produce a 

10 



146 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

change. Something stronger was needed, or the new 
conservatism would have perished in a general wreck. 
The requisite pressure came, however, very readily. 
Affairs under the confederation went on steadily from 
bad to worse. Congress sank into a state of hopeless 
decrepitude, and their committee appointed to take 
charge of the nation forsook its post and left the 
United States for more than six months at a time 
without any Federal head. The finances went utterly 
to rack and ruin. All the States, with few exceptions, 
engaged actively in the work of wholesale repudiation. 
Disintegration set in. The large States, in almost 
every instance, were threatened with dismemberment ; 
and the smaller States contemplated withdrawal from 
the old confederation in order to form new ones. In 
Europe our position was pitiable and humiliating to 
the last degree. We had become a by-word and re- 
proach in every mercantile community. Pitt refused 
to treat with us. Vergennes spoke of us with undis- 
guised contempt ; and all the Continental powers 
looked forward exultingly to our speedy ruin. Mat- 
ters did not stop here. Disorder and repudiation 
were followed b}^ general license and an outbreak of 
the communistic spirit. Insurrections began in vari- 
ous parts of the country, and finally culminated in the 
Shays Kebellion, in Massachusetts, which threatened 
extinction to such national government as still sur- 
vived. Such a condition of affairs produced a violent 
reaction, which resulted in the adoption of the Con- 
stitution and the setting in motion of the new political 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 147 

machinery. The experiment was to be made while 
the enemies of a strong central government were 
awed into silence by the disorders which had menaced 
the national life. The men who, afterwards, formed 
the Federalist party had achieved a victory, and made 
an attempt at government possible, but they entered 
upon their task while still a minority. 

Washington was elected to the |)residency as the 
choice of the whole people, and his wish was to govern 
in this sense and not as the leader of a party. With 
this desire he called to his administration the ablest 
men representing the opposing political elements. In 
short, Washington determined to try once more with 
a people of English race and a representative govern- 
ment the experiment of administration iudej)endent of 
party. In point of talent no such cabinet has ever 
been formed in this country, although the ability was 
chiefly confined to two men : the Secretaries of State 
and of the Tineas ury. Knox, the Secretary of War, 
was by no means the fool described by Jefferson, but 
he was not certainly a great statesman. A brave sol- 
dier, an honest and rather commonplace man, Knox 
is chiefly to be praised for the sense and fidelity with 
which he followed the lead of Hamilton and eschewed 
the counsels of Jefferson. Randolph, the Attorney 
General, was an abler man than Knox, but is very far 
from deserving the same amount of praise. He proved 
himself both vacillating and selfish, and although 
regarded by Hamilton as the blind follower of Jef- 
ferson, he was, nevertheless, a constant source of anx- 



148 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

iety to the latter, who could never depend upon him. 
False to his sujDposed leader at this time, he subse- 
quently betrayed his official trust and was unfaithfid 
to Washington himself. Around the two principal 
secretaries gathered gradually the opposing political 
forces of the country. Except that they were both 
men of genius, two more totally different characters 
than the Secretary of State and the Secretary of the 
Treasury can hardly be conceived. Jefferson was a 
sentimentalist ; a great man no doubt, but still a sen- 
timentalist pure and simple. His colleague and op- 
ponent was the very reverse. Hamilton reasoned on 
everything, and addressed himself to the reason of 
mankind for his support. Jefferson rarely reasoned 
about anything, but appealed to men's emotions, to 
their passions, impulses, and prejudices, for sympathy 
and admiration. Hamilton, in common with all the 
leaders of his party, was, in practice, a poor judge 
of human nature ; when he failed to convince he tried 
to control. Jefferson knew human nature, especially 
American human nature, practically, as no other man 
in this country has ever known it. He never con- 
vinced, he managed men ; by every device, by every 
artifice and stage effect, by anything that could stir 
the emotions, he appealed to the people. As he was 
the first, so was he the greatest of our jjarty leaders, 
and in this capacity no one has ever approached him. 
Hamilton was consistent, strong, masculine, and log- 
ical. Jefferson was inconsistent, supple, feminine, and 
illogical to the last degree. Yet these were the two 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 149 

men whom Washington had jomed with himself to 
conduct in harmony the administration of a represen- 
tative government. That Washington, like William 
III., failed ultimately under such circumstances to 
carry on a non-partisan administration, is merely to 
say that he could not overcome the impossible. That 
he succeeded for four years in his attempt is simply 
amazing. If the violent extremes of thought and 
character represented by Hamilton and Jefferson be 
fairly considered and contrasted, and if it then be re- 
membered that Washington held them together and 
made them work for the same ends and for the general 
good of the nation during four years, a conception of 
Washington's strength of mind and character is pro- 
duced which no other single act of his life can give. 

Under such circumstances, and with an administra- 
tion so constituted, the people of America began their 
experiment. Gouverneur Morris had said in a letter 
to Jay many years before : " Finance, my friend ; the 
whole of what remains of the American Revolution 
grounds there." ^ So it might now have been said 
that the whole of what was to be the American Union 
grounded there. The bane of the Confederation, the 
power wliich tumbled that weak structure to the 
gound, was finance, and it was the pivot on which the 
future of the country turned. To Hamilton, of course, 
fell the duty of shaping, or rather of creating, a finan- 
cial policy ; and upon him was laid the burden of giv- 
ing tangible existence to a government which as yet 
^ Sparks's Life of Gouverneur Morris, vol. i. p. 234. 



150 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

existed only on paper. The Secretary grappled fear- 
lessly with the great problem before him, and the ap- 
pearance of his first report was the dawn of a new 
era in American history. That policy, which will 
make its author famous as long as the history of this 
country survives, was divided into three parts : the 
payment of the foreign debt, the payment of the do- 
mestic debt, and the assumption of the state debts. 
The necessity of jDaying the foreign debt was conceded 
by all, and duly provided for. On the second point 
great dissension arose. The extremists in opposition 
were not in favor of paying the domestic debt in full ; 
the more moderate were in favor of discrimination 
among the holders of the certificates, — a proposition 
absurd in itself, and which involved an absolute con- 
tradiction of the very theory advanced. After a pro- 
longed struggle this measure was also carried. Then 
came the tug of war, — the assumption of the state 
debts. In the second question the opposition had 
not a show of reason to sup2)ort their views, but on 
the state debts two opinions were jDossible. Hamilton 
argued, " that it was a measure of sound policy and 
substantial justice," because " it would contribute, in 
an eminent degree, to an orderly, stable, and satisfac- 
tory arrangement of the national finances. Admitting, 
as ought to be the case, that a provision must be made, 
in some way or other, for the entire debt, it will follow 
that no greater revenues will be required, whether 
that provision be made wholly by the United States, 
or partly by them and partly by the States sepa- 
rately." 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 151 

" The principal question then must he, whether such 
a provision cannot be more conveniently and effect- 
ually made, by one general plan, issuing from one au- 
thority, than by different plans, originating in different 
authorities ? In the fii'st case there can be no competi- 
tion for resources ; in the last there must be such a 
, competition." 

A vivid picture of the disasters and troubles which 
such a competition of resources would inevitably cause 
follows, but unfortunately this vigorous passage is too 
long for quotation. The report then continues : — 

" If all the public creditors receive their dues from 
one source, distributed with an equal hand, their inter- 
est will be the same. And having the same interests 
they will unite in the support of the fiscal arrange- 
ments of the government, — as these too can be made 
with more convenience where there is no competi- 
tion." 

" If, on the contrary, there are distinct provisions, 
there will be distinct interests, drawing different ways. 
That union and concert of views, among the creditors, 
which in every government is of great importance to 
their security, and to that of public credit, will not 
only not exist, but will be likely to give place to mutual 
jealousy and opposition. And from this cause the op- 
eration of the systems which may be adopted, both 
by the particular States and by the Union, with rela- 
tion to their respective debts, will be in danger of be- 
ing counteracted." Proof is then offered that the 
state creditors would be in a worse position than 



152 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

those of the Union, and the injurious effects of this 
pointed out. The debts of the States are shown to be 
of the same nature as those of the Union, and this 
jjortion of the report concludes with a plan for as- 
sumption.^ 

The opposition were not convinced, and the parties 
came to a dead-lock. Hamilton was driven to desperate 
measures. He had failed to convince, he could not con- 
trol, he was unable to manage ; there was but one es- 
cape, — he negotiated. Jefferson was called to the res- 
cue, and Hamilton arranged with him that the debts 
should be assumed, and the capital in return be placed 
on the Potomac. This arrangement was simply a 
trade in which one measure was bargained off against 
another. Hamilton gave up something for which he 
did not care a jot and by so doing secured the neces- 
sary number of Southern votes. There is no evidence 
that Hamilton regarded it in any other way, and he 
maintained complete silence on the subject, apparently 
thinking the matter too obvious to require explanation, 
and being unwilling probably to say anything about 
his friends in Congress who by changing their votes 
had made the bargain possible. The other party to 
the contract has left us a full account. Jefferson, hav- 
ing gratified his local prejudices in regard to the capi- 
tal, and having made his trade successfully, endeavored 
subsequently to escape from responsibility. In order 
to do this he raised a cloud of falsehood, and excused 
himself on the ground, unparalleled for its cool and 
1 Hamilton's Works, vol. iii. pp. 13-17. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 153 

consummate audacity, that he had been duped by 
Hamilton. 

The financial policy was thus complete. My inten- 
tion is not to discuss its merits as a scheme of finance, 
nor to endeavor to criticise it as a funding system, but 
simply to treat it as a great state policy. No reason- 
able man would now dispute the first two propositions 
as to the foreign and domestic debts, but on the as- 
sumption of the state debts opinions have differed. It 
has been urged that as a whole it was too strong a 
policy, that it endangered the existence of the govern- 
ment and of the Federalist party. Those persons who 
argue in this way forget that there was no government 
and no party until this policy gave them both exist- 
ence. If it be said that it endangered the success of 
the new scheme, the only reply is that a scheme too 
weak to stand such a strain was a worthless one. 
Weak, time-serving policy had well-nigh ruined Amer- 
ica, and the time had come when a most vigorous and 
energetic one could alone save the Union. Putting- 
aside for a moment the first two divisions, can it be 
fairly supposed that the policy would have been better 
without assumption ? To most persons at the present 
day, the arguments of Hamilton, already cited, are ab- 
solutely convincing. Without assumption, disintegra- 
tion and consequent anarchy were probable, trouble 
and disaster certain. The great merit of the scheme 
was in its cohesive force, and this of itself is overwhelm- 
ing. Mutilated in this respect, the policy would have 
effected comparatively little, and would have been 



154 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

shorn of its most essential part. But it is folly to at- 
tempt to multiply arguments. In a field where Ham- 
ilton has gathered, few men can find much to glean. 
The means, by which the measure of assumption was 
carried and the plans of the treasury completed, have 
been criticised ; but it is not easy to see why men 
were not justified in abandoning the site of a capital 
in order to save a great financial policy. The sacri- 
fice made by Hamilton's friends at least involved no 
principle, for the situation of the capital was a mere 
question of expediency. Jefferson's friends, if we put 
the worst construction on it, gave up a principle in 
order to obtain the national capital for the South but 
they might fairly say, on the other hand, that they 
acted in the interests of harmonj^ and to strengthen 
the new government. The great question was settled 
by a trade and it is better to call the solution which 
was reached by its right name. It was not a com- 
promise, as Jefferson termed it ; it was a bargain and 
sale, the deliberate trading of one measure for an- 
other. But the policy, as such, was none the less 
great; and despite the railings of Hamilton's enemies, 
then and now, the great achievement of his life has 
earned the gratitude of the American peojile, for noth- 
ing can detract from the bold creative genius and the 
manly energy which made national existence a possi- 
bility. 

The work of Hamilton bore the test of immediate 
trial, and its success was brilliant. The Constitution 
was not destroyed but strengthened, the government 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 155 

was converted from a dream to a reality, and a great 
party was called into being. In discussing the merits 
of tliis policy as a scheme of finance, it can at most be 
said that Hamilton himself might have improved it. 
It cannot be urged that there was any other scheme 
then presented, or any objections then brought for- 
ward of the least weight. Jefferson's criticisms would 
disgrace a modern school-boy, and indicate a jirofun- 
dity of ignorance of which he can hardly be conceived 
capable. Madison opposed the policy because he was 
a Virginian, and wished to remain in public life ; and 
the result was that the emanations of liis mind, usually 
so lucid and powerful, are on this subject contused to the 
last degree. If Hamilton erred in details, it can be 
proved in but one way, from his own utterances, as- 
sisted by the advances of a century of progress. 

Such measures, while they were certain to rally a 
powerful party to their support, were equally certain 
to arouse a violent opposition. Very unfortunately, 
the opponents of Hamilton were incapable of offering 
any reasonable opposition to his measures, and this 
drove them to attack him personally, and on the score 
of honor and character. Even more unfortunate was 
the fact that the leader of such an opposition was 
Hamilton's colleague in the cabinet. The inevitable 
explosion followed. One secretary rewarded a versi- 
fier and hack-^vi'iter by a government place, and then 
aided and abetted his subordinate in an attack on his 
colleague. The other secretary rushed himself into 
the arena, descended into the newspapers, with scarcely 



156 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the j)oor excuse of self-defense, to deface and tear to 
pieces the character of the prime minister of the very 
administration of which he was himself a member. 
This quarrel and the manner in which it was con- 
ducted does not present a creditable or pleasing pic- 
ture. After such a broil, there could, of course, be no 
real or lasting peace, and the cabinet soon broke up. 
The rest of Hamilton's official life was dignified and 
honorable. He had created and carried into operation 
the National Bank, at that time an essential and use- 
ful measure, and devoted himself to perfecting the or- 
ganization and directing the policy which he had orig- 
inated. The latter portion of the secretaryship would 
be pleasant to dwell upon. To describe the attack 
made by the blatant Giles, backed secretly by Madi- 
son and Jefferson, and the sudden and energetic man- 
ner in which Hamilton turned upon the wretched tool 
and crushed him, woidd be to describe a very dra- 
matic incident. Many morals useful at the present 
day also might be dra\vn from this proceeding. There 
was no chicanery, no abuse of the accusers, no attempt 
to divert attention from the real issue. On the con- 
trary, Hamilton told every detail, and by almost su- 
perhuman efforts laid bare in two weeks his whole 
career as secretary. Strong in his integrity and dig- 
nified in his virtue, he not only met every charge, but 
repeatedly demanded fresh investigations from those 
who had crushed themselves in attacking him. To 
dwell upon his last days in office, and the sincere re- 
grets of Washington and the Federalist party at his 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 157 

resignation, would be still pleasanter. But all this 
must be passed over, as well as those years of active 
professional life during which Washington still turned 
to his former secretary for counsel and advice, still 
asked him to draft his messages, to advise the cabi- 
net, and to give his powerful support. We must come 
at once to the second great event in Hamilton's ca- 
reer : the downfall of his party. 

The Federalist party was a very remarkable politi- 
cal organization. For twelve years it not only carried 
out a strong policy, but it succeeded in raising up 
around our constitutional liberties barriers so strong 
that when the great tide of democracy set in with the 
election of Jefferson, it was confined by certain limits 
which it could not destroy. In short, the Federalists 
had made disintegration so difficult as to be for many 
years practically impossible. Yet the men who accom- 
plished all this were never, except during the excite- 
ment against France, in sympathy with the majority 
of their countrymen. They succeeded in holding their 
own by sheer weiglit of ability. With the exception 
of Jefferson, Gallatin, and Madison, the last of whom 
cannot be fairly numbered with either party, the Fed- 
eralists comprised all the able men in the country. 
Washington, Marshall, Hamilton, and John Adams 
are alone enough to justify all that can be said on the 
score of ability. But when it is considered that the 
second rank was filled by such men as Jay, Gouver- 
neur Morris, Rufus King, Ames, Sedgwick, Pickering, 
Cabot, Wolcott, Ellsworth, Dexter, Dana, Strong, and 



158 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the two Pinckneys, to go no farther, the combination 
nmst have been one of irresistible power. By their 
intellectual supremacy they carried one strong meas- 
ure after another against great odds, and forced the 
people into the strait and narrow path which led to an 
honorable and prosperous future. But with all their 
strength and all their ability there was one condition, 
and that a very delicate one, on which their whole 
success depended. So long as all moved in harmony 
they coidd always defy a Democratic majority ; but the 
instant perfect unison was lost, ruin became inevita- 
ble. So long as Washington remained in the presi- 
dency, the Federalists were safe. His unquestioned 
greatness formed a bulwark against which no one was 
willing to dash himself, and every one stood in awe of 
his personal character ; but the withdrawal of Wash- 
ington severed this bond, and in the nature of things the 
dissolution of the Federalists could have been averted 
only by the most consummate tact, the most delicate 
consideration and much mutual forbearance on the 
part of the leaders. After the retirement of Washing- 
ton, however, the Federalists were not even so far for- 
tunate as to have an undisputed chief. There were 
two men, neither of whom claimed leadership, but each 
of whom considered himself its indisputable possessor. 
Unhappily, also, both were to a certain extent right. 
Adams was the leader of the party de jure ; Hamilton, 
de facto. Neither considered the other's claims, or 
apparently admitted that he had any. It is perfectly 
clear that Adams's only proper course was to unite 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 169 

Hamilton to himself by the strongest tie. He had 
been elected by a party ; he represented that party and 
their policy ; he was bound by every rule of common- 
sense to hold his party together by all honorable 
means. The one necessary quality was tact, or rather 
the most consummate address, and this John Adams 
did not possess. It was perfectly possible to manage 
Hamilton ; he was by no means an unmanageable or 
unreasonable man when properly treated. Washington 
had already managed him with perfect success. Tact, 
good judgment, consideration, and a certain amount 
of deference were required, and all might have gone 
well. But it never occurred to Adams that this was 
necessary, or that he alone was not quite competent to 
control the Federal party. A more fatal blunder was 
never committed. Whatever Hamilton's merits or de- 
fects may have been, it is certain, as a matter of fact, 
that to attempt to guide the Federal party without at 
least his tacit approval was an impossibility. Ham- 
ilton's true course was equally obvious. Occupying 
the position he did, he was clearly at liberty to offer 
frankly his suggestions to the President. If these 
suggestions were rejected, then he ought either to 
have held his tongue, or, if the worst came to the 
worst, have gone into open opposition. Hamilton did 
neither. As Adams had a theory that he could con- 
trol the party unassisted, so Hamilton had a theory 
that he could control Adams. In pursuit of this 
theory he committed a blunder as fatal as Adams com- 
mitted in the pursuit of his. He undertook to mdn- 



160 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

age Adams througli the medium of the party and the 
cabinet. The situation was still further complicated 
by the character of Timothy Pickering, the Secretary 
of State, who, although in general sympathy with 
Hamilton, nevertheless aspired, after his own fashion, 
to lead the party himself, was utterly unmanageable, 
and was bent upon coercing the President. With 
both the leaders of the party hopelessly committed to 
radical errors, and with the cabinet and the President 
contending for supremacy, the new administration 
opened. 

There is nothing in the whole province of history 
so disagreeable or so generally worthless as j)ersonal 
quarrels. In this case one is reluctantly brought to 
the distasteful task of following the outlines of such 
a quarrel, because personal animosities were the sole 
cause of the premature ruin of a great party. I have 
tried to indicate the fatal theories to which both Ham- 
ilton and Adams were wedded ; it merely remains to 
point out some of the worst results. 

Even before the election, trouble had arisen. Ham- 
ilton's chief desire was to defeat Jefferson for the vice- 
presidency ; he held, and rightly, that this could be 
effected in but one way, — by casting all the Federal 
votes equally for the two Federal candidates, Adams 
and Pinckney. The danger of this course was, that 
Pinckney, the second choice, might be brought in over 
Adams who was the first choice. This risk Hamilton 
was perfectly ready to take, and made no secret that, 
to him personally, such a result would have been 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 161 

agreeable. There is not a scintilla of evidence that he 
ever intended to do more. He has been charged with 
bad faith, but it is a perfectly groundless charge. He 
never pretended that the election of Pinckney would 
displease him, but he never intrigued with a view to 
defeat Adams. The accusation was freely made at 
the time by the friends of Adams, and denied by those 
of Hamilton. The publication of the private letters of 
all parties has sustained fully the denial. Adams, 
naturally enough, however, took great umbrage. With 
perfectly hmnan inconsistency he was angry because 
Hamilton did, in 1796, what eight years before he had 
abused him for not doing. The Adams men, how- 
ever, threw away their votes, and Jefferson, as Ham- 
ilton had anticipated, secured in consequence the vice- 
presidency. Temporarily this cloud passed away, and 
for some time things went smoothly. At last came 
the alarm of war with France, and Washington was 
called upon to take command of the provisional army. 
He accepted the call on condition that the general offi- 
cers should not be appointed without his consent, and 
to this condition the President acceded. Washington 
made up his mind that, in the formation of the new 
army, the only proper and sensible course was to pro- 
ceed entirely de novo, without any reference to the old 
army. He hesitated for- some time as to whether 
Hamilton or Pinckney should be second in command ; 
while from the beginning he considered Knox unfit to 
be next himself. In favor of Pinckney were political 
considerations of his weight and influence, since the 
11 



162 STUDIES IN HISTORY, 

seat of war would probably have been in tbe Southern 
States. In favor of Hamilton were greater abilities, 
his own preference, and that of the Federal leaders. 
The latter considerations prevailed, and he sent in 
Hamilton's name at the head of the list. The Presi- 
dent sent it back with the order unchanged to the 
Senate, and the commissions were all dated the same 
day. The President then, Knox being dissatisfied? 
suddenly changed his mind, and put Knox first. 
Washington objected and wrote a letter, which could 
hardly have been pleasant reading for the President, 
who thereupon gave way. Hamilton's friends had 
written to Washington at the outset urging his claims, 
as tbey had an undoubted right to do, and they wrote 
again in great alarm when the President changed his 
mind. Adams gave as his reason that he thought 
Knox legally entitled. Washington had rejected this 
theory from the beginning ; and, at the very time 
when it was put forward, Adams was making other 
appointments which directly contravened his own rule. 
In describing this affair I have regarded nothing but 
the original letters from all parties, and have based 
my account so far as possible on the letter detailing 
the whole business from Washington,^ whose sense 
and veracity no one can have any inclination to dis- 
pute. The most that can be said against Hamilton in 
this affair is, that he wrote a letter, in a tone some- 
what disagreeably self-asserting, urging his own claims 
on Washington. Upon Adams must fall the whole 
^ Washington's Writings, vol. xi. p. 304. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 163 

blame for precipitating a quarrel on this point. The 
reason he gave for his action was perfectly untenable ; 
and it is hard to see that he was actuated by anything 
except a dislike and dread of Hamilton. This diffi- 
culty, at any rate, made all parties bitter and siTspi- 
cious. Hamilton and his friends began to see that 
they could not control the President, and to suspect 
that he meant to destroy them and break them down, 
while Adams, smarting under a sense of defeat, be- 
came suspicious of intrigues to control him, which cer- 
tainly existed, although not in this particular case. 
The quarrel engendered by this rash and mistaken 
action on the part of the President soon broke forth 
again with tenfold force. It has been said that things 
went smoothly at first, a piece of good foi-tune which 
arose from the fact that Adams and Hamilton both 
favored the same policy, thus making an irresistible 
combination, against the power of which the cabinet 
struggled in utter helplessness, and furnishing, uncon- 
sciously, the strongest proof of the absolute neces- 
sity of that union which overweening self-confidence 
caused both the Federal leaders to reject. In the 
great excitement attendant on the indignation against 
France, the Federal party received general support ; 
and, for the only time In their history, found them- 
selves masters of a complete majority, which, with the 
war fever, seems to have turned their heads. They 
proceeded, unchecked, to great extremes. Their prin- 
cipal mistake was the passage of the Alien and Sedi- 
tion Acts. The idea conveyed by Mr. Morse that 



164 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Hamilton opposed these measures is quite erroneous, 
since, as a matter of fact, he was one of their strong- 
est supporters.^ The mistake has arisen from a too 
hasty reading of Hamilton's urgent letter to Wol- 
cott, which was really directed against the first draft 
of the Sedition Act, — a most outrageous proposal, 
which no man in his senses would have supported, 
and which was substantially rejected. All the Feder- 
alists alike are responsible for the measures actually 
adopted, which subsequently told so heavily against 
them. They were errors due to the dogmatic char- 
acter of the Federalist leaders, and their ignorance 
of the popular nature. All cooperated very heartily 
in the war measures, but Adams was the first to see 
the honorable opportunity for making peace. True 
to the policy of Washington, true to the best interests 
of the country, to his lasting honor he saw the right 
and pursued it. It was the greatest act of Adams's 
life, and is alone sufficient to stamp him as a tndy 
great man. At a very similar juncture Washington 
had carried through the Jay treaty, and brought his 
party out from the ordeal more united than before. 
Lack of tact again proved Adams's stumbling-block ; 
and though he carried through as bravely and cour- 
ageously as Washington the same true policy, without 
a thought for himself or the hazards of the undertak- 
ing, he did it in such an unfortunate manner as to 
bring his party out of the struggle rent with dissen- 
sions. Hamilton was not bent on war at all events, 
1 Hamilton's Works, vol. vi. p. 387. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 165 

but he was mucli less ready to seize the first chance for 
peace than Adams. By no means so violent against 
the proposed peace-commission as his less able friends, 
he yet opposed and strove to delay the departure of 
the envoys. He even tried, personally, to change the 
President's opinions ; but Adams was too clearly in 
the right and too perfectly conscious of his own recti- 
tude to think of yielding. The commission was sent, 
the country was saved from a useless and destructive 
war, but the Federal party was ruined. Adams's con- 
duct in neglecting Hamilton, and in the affair of the 
generals, had been the first stroke ; but it was reserved 
to Hamilton and his friends to deal the death-blow to 
the party. Adams, justly indignant with the course 
of his secretaries, dismissed Pickering and McHenry ; 
and Hamilton, on the eve of the election, published 
his famous attack on Adams. This was the great 
error of his public life. He assailed the President 
bitterly and wound iip by advising everybody to vote 
for him, a most impotent conclusion. Blinded by pas- 
sion, Hamilton had ruined Adams and the party 
together, and was destined, before reason returned, to 
leave a blot on his own fame which cannot be effaced. 
This was the proposal to Jay to convene the actual 
legislature of New York in extra session, change the 
electoral law, and take the choice of electors out of 
the hands of the legislature elect. A more high- 
handed and unscrupulous suggestion it would be diffi- 
cult to conceive, and Jay, very properly, would not 
listen to it. 



166 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

All was now over. Adams and Hamilton between 
them had destroyed their party, and on them the 
whole blame must rest. Hot-tempered and domineer- 
ing, neither would give way, and the real if not 
avowed struggle between them for supremacy brought 
down in undistinguishable ruin the party they had 
helped to build uj). The Federal party had done a 
great work, and had insured, so far as possible, a 
stable government. It found America degraded in 
the eyes of the world, weak and helpless, rent with 
internal disorders, on the very brink of final ruin. It 
left her respected abroad, strong and powei'ful at 
home, secui'e under a settled and stable government, 
fairly started on the broad road of greatness and 
prosperity. So great had been its policy, so wise its 
measures, that when Mr. Jefferson and his friends 
came into power they were forced to accept the sys- 
tem of their enemies. With the exception of the 
Alien and Sedition Laws, which expired by limitation, 
there was no act of the Federalists that the Democrats 
either dared or could undo. The debt of gratitude 
due to that great party is immense, and their admir- 
ers may point to their achievements for vindication 
and be content. Yet there is no sufficient reason for 
assuming that the career of the Federalists must nec- 
essarily have ended as it did. There was at least a 
fair prospect that a long period of usefulness was still 
possible, that in their strong hands the miseries and 
disgraces of the next fifteen years might have been 
avoided, and that they, instead of their opponents, 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 167 

might have enjoyed the fruits of their own hard la- 
bors. Ultimately Jeffersonianism must have prevailed, 
bvit at the time of its actual triumph it came too soon, 
and Jefferson's early victoi-y was secured solely by the 
errors of his opponents. So long as the Federalists 
were united they were invincible. But Adams's dis- 
play of jealousy in his appointments of major-gen- 
erals, his rough-shod riding in the case of the j)eace 
commission, and Hamilton's mad retaliation upon him, 
together with the intrigues of the secretaries, de- 
stroyed at once the subtle charm. The delicate or- 
ganization, once shattered, could never be restored. 

There is a feeling of intense relief in turning from 
Hamilton amidst the falling ruins of his party, to con- 
sider his conduct in regard to Burr. The last of the 
Federalists to lose his head, he was the first to regain 
it. Gouverneur Morris has described himself after the 
defeat as standing in the unenviable position of the 
one sober man among a crowd of drunken revelers. 
The simile was only too apt. The Federalists were 
drunk with rage, maddened by their own folly, fren- 
zied with hatred of their arch-enemy, Jefferson. In 
this dangerous mood they listened to the intriguing 
whispers of Burr, and contemplated electing him to 
the presidency by their votes in the House. Hamil- 
ton threw himself at once into the breach. He hated 
Jefferson, he was personally on good terms with Burr. 
But he knew Burr's character, and he abhorred the 
scheme which was contemplated. A few Federalists 
listened finally to the voice of their leader, and Burr 



168 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

was defeated. The foresight, the courage, the energ}^ 
of Hamilton saved the country from a great danger, 
and his party from a disgrace a thousand times worse 
than any defeat. Ahnost the last act of his life was 
directed to the same object, and we see him at the 
close striving to save the good name of his friends and 
support tlie' Union he had done so much to create. 

I have glanced at Hamilton as a soldier, orator, 
jurist, statesman, and financier. A few words on him 
as a writer, and the criticism is complete. If we com- 
pare Hamilton with the other writers of that period 
when every distinguished man did more or less politi- 
cal writing, and when there was no other native liter- 
ature, it is a simple matter to fix his position. He 
was easily first. Not only have his writings alone 
survived for the general reader out of the wilderness 
of essays and pamphlets of the last century on similar 
subjects, but the " Federalist " has become a text-book 
in America and an authority in Europe. Hamilton, 
in this capacity, will, however, bear a severer test, — 
that of abstract merit. His writings deal exclusively 
with the great questions of that day, and have lost 
their living interest. Yet as specimens of political 
literature, as disqiusitions on constitutions and the art 
of government, and as masterpieces of reasoning, they 
are not only the best produced here, but they will 
take high rank among the best efforts of other coun- 
tries. One quality which raised Hamilton in this re- 
gai'd beyond his contemporaries on both sides of the 
Atlantic was his freedom from the didactic tone which 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 169 

SO mars the writings of the latter half of the last 
century. His style was simple, nervous, and modern 
in feeling, and any one who has tried to condense 
one of his arguments will appreciate the statement 
that the thought is compressed to the last point con- 
sistent with clearness. Yet forcible and convincing 
as all Hamilton's essays are, pure as is the style, 
and vigorous and rapid as is the flow of thought, 
they are hard reading. Admiring them as models in 
their way and as great intellectual efforts, one is 
forced to confess them dry to the last degree. This, 
of course, is in gTeat measure due to the subjects 
treated, but it was also partly owing to Hamilton's 
character. Judged solely by his letters, his speeches, 
or his essays, Hamilton would appear to have been 
almost entirely destitute of imagination and of humor. 
One looks in vain in all he wrote or said for a fancy, 
a simile, a metaphor, or a touch of fun. That most 
human and attractive of all senses, the sense of the 
ridiculous, nowhere appears. Throughout, abounds 
the purest, the most eloquent reasoning, which, when 
enforced by the bodily presence, the piercing eye, and 
all the forces of his passionate nature, must have 
made the orator irresistible. But when we sit down 
to read his works unmoved by his personal influence, 
we are convinced, we admire more and more deeply, 
but we are never amused or absorbed. Still, in this 
field, neither imagination nor humor, however agree- 
able, are essentials, and Hamilton has certainly won 
in his own domain a reputation as a writer unsur- 
passed by any of his countrymen. 



170 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Thus the list of his high titles to distinction comes 
to an end. The great question of all is still to be an- 
swered: What of Hamilton as a man? He has been 
charged with being a monarchist in principle and a 
believer in a monarchy bottomed on corruption ; with 
being more British than American at heart ; with 
being a corruptionist and the proprietor of a corrupt 
legislative squadron; and with having acted towards 
the Adams wing of his own party with continued bad 
faith, and with a design of personal aggrandizement. 
To enter upon a proof of his intellectual greatness 
would be sheer waste of words, and therefore to 
weigh the charges of his enemies which affect his 
moral greatness is alone necessary. 

A great mistake has, I think, been made by the 
defenders and eulogists of Hamilton in dealing with 
the first of these charges. He was a believer, theo- 
retically, in the English form of government, and con- 
sidered it the best, at that time, ever invented. It 
should be remembered that our own government did 
not then exist, and there can be no question that 
the English government was the best model, and the 
only one from which men of English race could derive 
wholesome lessons. So far Hamilton was a monarch- 
ist. That he ever seriously believed it desirable or 
possible to establish a monarchy, and one " bottomed 
on corruption," in the United States, it is preposter- 
ous to sujDpose. There is absolutely no evidence, ex- 
cept the highly veracious gossip of Jefferson, that he 
ever thought so, and such a theory would, moreover, 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 171 

have stamped him as a political idiot, which he cer- 
tainly was not. On the other hand, he certainly was 
not an ardent republican. He believed a republican 
or more accurately a democratic government to be 
radically defective. Morris says : — 

" General Hamilton hated republican government, 
because he confounded it with democratical govern- 
ment ; and he detested the latter, because he believed 
it must end in despotism, and be, in the mean time, 
destructive to public morality. He believed that our 
administration would be enfeebled progressively at 
every new election, and become at last contemptible. 
He apprehended that the minions of faction would 
sell themselves and their country, as soon as for- 
eign powers should think it worth while to make the 
purchase. In short, his study of ancient history im- 
pressed on his mind a conviction that democracy, end- 
ing in tyranny, is, while it lasts, a cruel and oppres- 
sive domination. 

"... His observation and good sense demonstrated 
that the materials for an aristocracy do not exist 
in America; . . . moreover the extent of the United 
States led him to fear a defect of national sentiment. 

" He heartily assented, nevertheless, to the Consti- 
tution, because he considered it as a band which might 
hold us together for some time, and he knew that na- 
tional sentiment is the offspring of national existence. 
He trusted, moreover, that in the chances and changes 
of time we should be involved in some war, which 
might streno'then our union and nerve the Executive. 



172 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

He was not, as some have supposed, so blind as not 
to see that the President could purchase power, and 
shelter himself from responsibility, by sacrificing the 
rights and duties of his office at the shrine of influ- 
ence. But he was too proud, and, let me add, too vir- 
tuous, to recommend or tolerate measures eventually 
fatal to liberty and honor. It was not, then, because 
he thought the executive magistrate too feeble to carry 
on the business of the state, that he wished him to pos- 
sess more authority, but because he thought there was 
not sufficient power to carry on the business honestly. 
He apprehended a corrupt understanding between 
the Executive and a dominating party in the legisla- 
ture, which would destroy the President's responsibil- 
ity ; and he teas not to he taught, what every one 
knows, that where responsibility ends, fraud, injus- 
tice, tyranny, and treachery begin. 

" General Hamilton was of that kind of men who 
may most safely be trusted, for he was more covetous 
of glory than of wealth or power. But he was, of all 
men, the most indiscreet. He knew that a limited 
monarchy, even if established, could not preserve 
itself in this country. He knew, also, that it could 
not be established, because there is not the regTilar 
gradation of ranks among our citizens which is essen- 
tial to that species of government. And he very well 
knew that no monarchy whatever could be established 
but by the mob. 

" But although General Hamilton knew these things 
from the study of history, and perceived them by the 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 173 

intuition of genius, lie never failed on every occasion 
to advocate the excellence of, and avow his attachment 
to, monarchical government. By this course he not 
only cut himself off from all chance of rising into of- 
fice, but singularly promoted the views of his oppo- 
nents, who, with a fondness for wealth and power, 
which he had not, affected a love for the people, which 
he had and they had not. Thus meaning very well, 
he acted very ill, and approached the evils he appre- 
hended by his very solicitude to keep them at a dis- 
tance." 1 

This account has been given at length, because upon 
the whole it conveys as good a contemporary idea of 
Hamilton as can be found anywhere. The writer's pow- 
ers of discernment have enabled him in a few vivid 
sentences to give us a picture of Hamilton's genius as 
well as of his errors of judgment. From this it may 
be seen how far he was from believing in a monarchy 
in this country ; how he sought, above all things, an 
honest and honorable government, and how wonderful 
was his foresight and his comprehension of social and 
political forces. Hamilton wished a strong constitu- 
tional government,, the only safeguard for rational, pop- 
ular liberty. He was not pi'epared to urge any special 
scheme, but he was eager for a strong government and 
the creation of a powerful national sentiment. The 
lines above printed in italics we may well take home 
to ourselves in the struggles of to-day as a wholesome 
doctrine and a proof of Hamilton's wisdom. This quo- 
1 Sparks's Life of G. Morris, vol. iii. p. 260. 



174 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tation shows, also, in the strongest and probablj^ in 
a somewhat exaggerated manner, Hamilton's errors, 
his headstrong indiscretion, and the pertinacity of his 
opinions as instanced by his belief in the strengthen- 
ing effects of war, which drove him into opposition to 
Adams's peace commission. 

Hamilton never believed thoroughly in the Consti- 
tution. He thought it would serve its turn and be of 
very great value, but at the same time he considered it 
defective, and urged the establishment of an Executive 
and Senate during good behavior, and the apj)ointment 
of state governors by the central government. There 
is no fiiier trait in Hamilton's character than the un- 
swerving fidelity with which he strove to preserve and 
strengthen a constitution which he believed to be thor- 
oughly insufficient. Nothing shows more strongly the 
nobleness which rises above all personal feelings by 
honest devotion to the best interests of the people. 
He was a thorough nationalist, the only one among the 
leaders of his day with the single exception of Wash- 
ington : he felt that the great danger to the national 
life resided in the state governments; and on this 
ground he urged the appointment -of governors, and 
favored a division of the large States. A century's 
experience has shown the justice of these fears. The 
dangers to national existence, the peril of disunion, 
Hamilton's especial dread, have arisen since his time 
from various causes, the most dangerous of which 
was of course slavery ; but all these causes have found 
their support in the pernicious extremes of states' 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 175 

rights resting on the strength of the state govern- 
ments. Whether Hamilton's suggestions woukl have 
obviated these clangers, or whetlier they would, by 
going too far the other way, have created new ones, 
must be matter merely for speculation. While deeply 
convinced of the soundness of his views in this respect, 
Hamilton was too keen an observer not to see the value 
of the innate English principle of local self-govern- 
ment, and that states' rights, founded on local attach- 
ments which are always the offspring of a law of na- 
ture, were, in the absence of an aristocracy, the only 
sure barrier against extreme, unbridled democracy and 
the consequent peril of despotism. In the New York 
convention he elaborately explained that he merely 
wished to so confine the state governments that they 
could not impede the national one. After his usual 
manner, he then formulated the whole theory of states' 
rights by saying that " destruction of the States must 
be at once a political suicide," and that "the States 
can never lose their power till the whole people of 
America are robbed of their liberties." ^ No man un- 
derstood the true nature of the Constitution or the 
true system for th§ country better than Hamilton. He 
described it as a system in which " the great desid- 
erata are a free representation and mutual checks." ^ 
He believed that the only possible form of government 
was a republic, and, although he was a monarchist in 
theory, he was a republican in practice, and, what was 

^ Hamilton's Works, vol. ii. pp. 459 and 461. 
2 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 4o3. 



176 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

still better, the devoted friend o£ the best good of his 
country. 

Hamilton's incautiously expressed preferences for a 
monarchical form as in theory the best state afforded 
ample ground to his enemies to brand him as " British 
Hamilton," but no charge was ever more baseless or 
absurd, for he believed thorouglily in observing the 
strictest neutrality towards all nations. To prove this 
it is sufficient to trace his course in 1782 on the secret 
article, or to read his arguments on the questions 
which arose with England during Washington's first 
term. Long before the nominal author had thought 
of it, Hamilton had formulated the Monroe doctrine. 
On the Democrats alone rests the heavy responsibil- 
ity of importing foreign affairs into our politics. Be- 
cause Hamilton would not aid in plunging the country 
into war with England on behalf of France, because 
he considered the French Revolution infamous in its 
course, because he believed in adopting the same pol- 
icy towards the English as towards the French, Jef- 
ferson and his followers stigmatized him as a British 
sympathizer and adherent. 

Neither was Hamilton a believer or practitioner of 
corruption. His personal integrity was above re- 
proach, and his letter to Lee ^ shows how delicately 
he conceived his duties in office. There is not a 
shadow of proof that he ever used his power cor- 
ruptly, or corrupted anybody, unless it was when he 
secured a few Democratic votes for assumption by 
^ HamiUo7i's Works, vol. v. p. 446. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 177 

agreeing to support the plan for a Southern capital. 
The corrupt legislative squadron was one of the many 
fancies of Jefferson's fertile brain. Men there un- 
doubtedly were in Congress of both parties who held 
United States certificates, and of course these men 
were benefited by the treasury measures ; and if this is 
sufficient to make Hamilton a corruptionist, then he 
was one, but there is absolutely no other ground for 
the accusation. 

The more serious charge of acting in bad faith is 
unfortunately true in one instance. This was the pro- 
posal to Jay to change the electoral law by an ar- 
bitrary exercise of power. Hamilton committed this 
fault when he had lost all self-control, was wild with 
passion against Adams, and maddened by the disasters 
awaiting his party. This does not excuse Hamilton, 
but it shows the cause of the great error of his public 
life. The other charge of the Adams faction, that 
he sought empire and personal aggrandizement, was 
perfectly unfounded. Hamilton loved glory, but only 
when obtained by serving his country ; and his op- 
position to the peace policy was due solely to his 
obstinate belief that a war would be efficacious in 
strengthening the government, in establishing the as- 
cendency of the United States in the western hemi- 
sphere, and in assuring success to his party. He 
made a mistake, perhaps, in point of political judg- 
ment, but he sought no unworthy or selfish object. 

Mr. Morse has given us no picture of Hamilton per- 
sonally and in private life, and the materials are in 

12 



178 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

truth meagre. Nevertheless, the effort is worth mak- 
ing, for the personality of such a man is of much im- 
portance. Nothing shows his oratorical power better 
than the fact that he won such great triumphs in court 
and in debate without some of the attributes most 
essential to a public speaker. Physical qualities have 
a great deal to do with success as an orator, far more 
than is generally supjDosed, and not the least important 
is a commanding presence. Hamilton, however, was 
small and lithe and much below the average height of 
men. This is a most serious drawback, but it does 
not seem to have interfered with Hamilton's success. 
He swayed men powerfully in spite of his stature, and 
every competent judge knows how much this implies. 
The reality and force of his eloquence is shown by his 
moving his auditors to tears by his appeal in bphalf 
of the Constitution before the New York convention, 
and the effect of his look and manner is illustrated by 
the incident in the famous murder trial when he so 
awed and terrified the j)i"iiicipal witness for the gov- 
ernment that the guilty wretch broke down, and the 
life of the prisoner was saved. This personal power, 
moreover, was not confined to moments of excitement. 
On one occasion Hamilton went to witness the per- 
formance of a juggler, and chanced to sit in the front 
row. As soon as the entertainment began the juggler 
gave some coins to Hamilton, requesting him to hold 
them tightly in his hand, and as the performance pro- 
ceeded he would turn from time to time to Hamilton 
and ask if the coins were safe. When all was over, 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 179 

the coins were returned, no use having been made of 
them, and one of the spectators had the curiosity to 
ask the juggler the reason of this apparently purpose- 
less manoeuvre. The reply was, " I did not like the 
look of that man's eyes, and I knew that, unless I 
could continually distract his attention, he would see 
through all my tricks." ^ 

It is obvious, therefore, that Hamilton, although 
small, was, nevertheless, most impressive in manner 
and appearance. We know, too, that he had a fine and 
musical voice, and a passionate temperament, so that 
when he was roused he had the sweeping force which 
carries men with it in eager sympathy. These gifts 
were supplemented by his grace of movement and by 
his striking look. He had a singularly noble and well- 
shaped head, as we can learn from Ceracchi's bust, and 
the good portraits show a face full of character and 
determination. All his features were strongly marked, 
but his eyes were peculiarly striking. They were dark 
and deep-set, and in moments of passion had the glow 
and fire so rarely seen, and which, when once seen, 
are never forgotten. But at all times his glance had 
a peculiar penetration and force which were qualities 
characteristic of the man, and made themselves pro- 
foundly felt by all who came within their influence. 

In private life Hamilton had a great charm of 
manner and a warmth and humor which do not find 

^ Tills striking little anecdote, which, I believe, has never be- 
fore been printed, I owe to Mr. William Silliuian, of West Troy, 
New York. 



180 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

expression in his writings. His brilliancy in conversa- 
tion and his personal fascination indeed mnst have 
been extreme. Adored by his own family, beloved by 
his personal friends, he was also unhesitatingly fol- 
lowed by the leading men of his party. His adher- 
ents were not sentimental admirers : they were cool, 
hard-headed, practical, able men, and their unques- 
tioning devotion to Hamilton and their acknowledg- 
ment of his supremacy are the strongest proofs of his 
commanding power. 

Hamilton's passions were his bane, ^nd we have 
tried to show that it was owing to their vehemence 
that in moral strength he fell short of his intellectual 
greatness. Uncurbed passion left a stain upon his 
private chai'acter, and in a similar way uncurbed pas- 
sion caused his political errors, and made him a prin- 
cipal in the ruin of his party. The moral sense was 
not always strong enough to rise over and restrain the 
passions, and the greatness on one side thereby was 
diminished. 

I have tried to deal with Hamilton's varied career 
and with the different sides of his nature, and to judge 
him fairly and impartially, bearing in mind that great 
genius and splendid abilities demand severer tests 
than the ordinary talents of mankind. But posterity 
judges Hamilton as a whole. The historian may 
analyze and dissect, but the final tribunal passes sen- 
tence on the whole man, moral and intellectual, states- 
man and financier, jurist and soldier, orator and 
writer, all combined. It is always dangerous to un- 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 181 

dertake to say what tlie verdict of posterity is. But it 
may safely be assumed that posterity does not accept 
the opinion of his enemies ; that it does not agree 
with Jefferson or 4dams. The people of the United 
States have been won^^-^.o reverence and abide by the 
decisions of their gi»\eat ch-f iustice, and I am in- 
clined to think that in'U^artial IxBu to-day, after mak- 
ing an exception in ft.\vor of I?anklin, would agree 
with the opinion of Jolm MarsLall, "that Hamilton 
was the greatest man the , count-y has ever seen, al- 
ways excepting WashingtoLi." 



TIMOTHY PIC^'iLRING. 



/ [ 



The political party which (^jarried through the Con- 
stitution and fount]rid the gcvernnient under which we 
live holds a high place in. history, and must always 
possess a deep interest for the people of the United 
States. It was a party of strongly marked cliarac- 
teristics, and although in most complete and essential 
accord as to general ])rinciples, it had also certain 
well-defined divisions. The Federalists of the South, 
notably in Virginia, as a rule were moderate both in 
opinion and expression, while those of New York were 
showy and excitable, with a military flavor not to be 
found elsewhere. The Federalists of New England, 
who furnished the main strength of the party, were 
simpler in manners and habits than their New York 
brethren, but were the most extreme in their views 
and the most dogmatic in their assertions. There 
was, too, a general division of the whole party, as is 
always the case between the moderate and the radical 
men ; and, as commonly happens, the latter ended by 
controlling the organization and imparting to it the 
tone and the characteristics by which it is best known 
to posterity. 

If any one familiar with our history were asked to 



I; 



TIMO TH Y PICKERING. 183 

name the leader who more than any other typified 
extreme Federalism of the purest and most rigid 
kind, he would undoubtedly go to the New England 
contingent and select there the man whose name 
gives a title to this essay. A typical man in such a 
party, if he has higher attributes than unflinching po- 
litical loyalty and uncompromising adherence to his 
opinions, is well worth our careful study, and Timothy 
Pickering" was far more than a blind partisan or the 
unquestioning follower of other men. He held a high 
place among" the Federalists, — no slight honor in a 
party which, in a long list of distinguished men, 
could count the names of Washington, Hamilton, 
Marshall, and the elder Adams. Not only as a typical 
character but as a public man and party leader Ite has 
strong claims upon the attention of posterity ; and yet 
hitherto his life and character have been but partially 
known and understood. In the presence of four am- 
ple volumes devoted to his biography, such a state- 
ment may seem strange ; but if proof be needed of its 
correctness recent publications afford conclusive evi- 
dence. Mr. Oetavius Pickering", the author of the 
first volume of his father's biography, died before he 
could complete the work he had so well begun. The 
unfinished task was then intrusted to the late Mr. Up- 
ham, and the three volumes written by him cover the 
most important events of Colonel Pickering's career. 
From a well-meant but mistaken view of the nature 
and obligations of history, Mr. Upham has softened the 
personal and political controversies in which Colonel 



184 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Pickering was engaged, vmtil they seem to be little 
more than mere speculative differences of opinion ; 
and, not content with this historical peace-making, 
has gone even farther, and passed over in silence the 
separatist movements in New England from 1804 to 
1815. To write Colonel Pickering's biography in this 
' way may have been good-natured, but it was singu- 
larly unjust to both reader and subject. Such treat- 
ment effaced the most interesting portion of Picker- 
ing's career, and omitted the very events in which his 
strongest qualities, of both mind and character, were 
most strikingly displayed. A perusal of Mr. Upham's 
volumes left the reader in that dissatisfied frame of 
mind which invariably arises from a consciousness 
thafull has not been told. The material for the whole 
story fortunately existed, but it was hidden from the 
public eye among the Pickering MSS. in the posses- 
sion of the Massachusetts Historical Society ; and 
when a biography proves to be incomplete or insuf- 
ficient, but is at the same time elaborate and extended, 
there is but little chance that it will ever be rewritten, 
or at least within any reasonable time. We can only 
hope to supply defects of this sort by a thorough ex- 
amination of the original sources, and indirectly from 
other publications, as in the present case.^ The un- 
printed letters and those now published for the first 
time fill the gaps in Mr. Upham's work, and enable us 

1 Documents relating to New England Federalism. Edited by 
Professor Henry Adams. 1877. Life and Letters of George Cabot. 
1877. 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 185 

to understand and to appreciate the character and 
career of this distinguished party leader. 

Timothy Pickering was a genuine descendant of the 
Puritans. He was a fit representative in the eight- 
eenth century of the race which colonized New Eng- 
land in the seventeenth. His ancestors were num- 
bered among those men who had wrung a livelihood 
from the rocky soil of Massachusetts and the wild 
seas of the North Atlantic. Surrounded by hard- 
shijDs, in conflict with man and nature, combating 
earth, air, and the savage with the same grim deter- 
mination, crushing out domestic dissension with re- 
lentless severity, and stubbornly resisting foreign in- 
terference, the Puritans in America founded and built 
up a strong, well-ordered state. Here was worked 
out to the end the Puritan theory of government ; 
here, and only here, Puritan Englishmen, for a cen- 
tury and a half, kept their race unmixed and their 
blood pure. The passage of years and the advance 
of civilization modified and softened the character of 
the New England people, but their most marked qual- 
ities, moral and mental, remained unchanged. 

In every way Timothy Pickering truly represented 
the race from which he sprang. His family was one 
of those which formed the strength of the New Eng- 
land population in 1776, and which, taking the tide of 
revolution at its flood, were borne on by it to power 
and place. Limited means, frugality, honesty, indus- 
try, order, were the essential facts in Pickering's sur- 
roundings during childhood ; but narroy fortune could 



186 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

not deprive liim o£ education, dear to the New Eng- 
lander beyond any other endowment, and he passed 
with credit through Harvard College. Returning 
from Cambridge to Salem, he soon displayed within 
the confined limits of a New England town the same 
qualities which he afterwards manifested on the broad 
field of national politics. Hardly released from col- 
lege, he plunged at once into party strife, became an 
ardent AVhig, and assailed with all the zeal of a young 
reformer the defective militia system of the colony. 
Controversy soon followed. An article in the newspa- 
per was wrongly attributed to him, and caused a sharp 
attack. Far from contenting himself with disclaiming 
the authorship thus thrust upon him, Pickering ac- 
cepted the challenge and dashed into the fight. This 
served as a beginning. Soon after he engaged in a 
conflict about church matters, and after a brief inter- 
val in still another, produced by opposing medical 
theories. In this last affair Pickering assailed the 
obnoxious principles with both tongue and pen. He 
wrote a series of sharp, incisive articles, signing him- 
self " A Lover of Truth," denounced the offending 
practitioner as a quack, and was threatened with a 
duel and with personal violence. 

The day of Lexington which roused New England to 
arms saw Pickering hastening at the head of his reg- 
iment to the scene of action. He arrived too late to 
take part in the fighting, but in season to be present 
at a council of officers, and urge, although wholly un- 
supported, an immediate attack on the " Castle," the 



i 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 187 

strongest position held by the British. The following- 
year he recruited his regiment, and led it through 
Rhode Island and Connecticut to join the main army 
in New York. Scarcely had he returned from this 
campaign when Washington, whose quick eye had 
noted his executive capacity, offered him the position 
of adjutant-general. After some hesitation Pickering 
accepted this important post, and despite his misgiv- 
ings rendered efficient service. The next step was to 
the place of quartermaster-general. The ablest officer 
in the American army had pronounced it a physical 
impossibility to carry on the duties of this position, 
and had relinquished it in disgust, but this had no 
effect upon Pickering. He took the place, nothing 
daunted, and carried it through to the end. Entire 
success was, of course, impossible, but to execute in 
any way the duties of a quartermaster-general under 
existing circumstances required energy, vigor, and 
administrative powers of a high and enduring kind. 
Here, then, Pickering remained, battling with ineffi- 
ciency and disorder, with Congress, and with annoy- 
ances of every sort, until the close of the war. Peace 
found him richer in reputation, but as poor as ever in 
material wealth, and with a growing family to be pro- 
vided for. A mercantile arrangement having turned 
out unprofitably, Pickering resolved to follow his nat- 
ural inclination and take to the wild farming life of 
the frontier. Space forbids that I should trace out 
the Wyoming controversies, which are well depicted 
by Mr. Upham. This struggle among the borderers 



188 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

forms one of the dark chapters in the little-known 
histoiy of the confederation. But the dangers and 
turbulence of Wyoming, sufficient in themselves to 
deter most men from even entering that region, seem 
to have been a prevailing reason with Pickering in 
the selection of his future home. To his combative 
and vigorous nature, filled with the love of order and 
the spirit of command, this scene of disturbance offered 
l^owerful attractions. Perhaps, half unconsciously, his 
main motives were a longing for the struggle and a 
belief that he could ride this frontier whirlwind and 
control the storm. It is certain that to his fearless 
courage and persistence the peace which finally settled 
down upon the beautiful and distracted valley was 
largely due. Throughout every difficulty Pickering 
sought with stern justice to coerce the insurgents, and 
at the same time to wrest from the state government 
the rights which they had withheld from the settlers. 

After having supported the cause of the Constitution 
in Pennsylvania, he was called from the wild scenes of 
Wyoming to the postmaster-generalship of the United 
States, which proved only a stepping-stone to higher 
things. On the dissolution of Washington's first cabi- 
net, Pickering was offered and accepted the secretary- 
ship of war. He was a singular contrast to his pred- 
ecessor, Genei^al Knox, the " handsome bookseller " 
of earlier days, who was still a fine-looking man, and 
not a little fond of parade. Knox had not only been 
a good secretary, but had shone with great lustre in 
the society of the capital, where he had dazzled the 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 189 

eyes of all beholders by his fine appearance and free 
style of living. To this rather splendid personage 
succeeded Pickering,.and as he stands at the threshold 
of his career on the stage of national politics he is a 
hardly less striking figure than the retiring secretary, 
although in a very different way. Tall and rather 
gaunt, large in frame, strong of limb, and possessing 
a hardy constitution, Pickering was both a powerful 
and imposing looking man. The brush of Stuart has 
preserved to us his lineaments, and in them the genius 
of the artist has fitly represented the mental charac- 
teristics of his subject. An eminently Roman face of 
a type not uncommon in New England looks out from 
the canvas. Decision, incisiveness, uncompromising 
vigor of character, strength, narrowness, and rigidity 
of mind, are the suggestions of the portrait. A 
marked simplicity pervades the whole figure. " The 
lank locks guiltless of pomatum," and the baldness 
undisguised by wig or powder, to which the colonel 
referred with pride and John Adams with sarcasm, 
are conspicuous. So, too, is soberness of dress, the 
effect of which was heightened in the original by the 
spectacles that near-sightedness rendered necessary. 
Stern republican simplicity seems to be the character 
to which Stuart's subject aspired. But the picture 
does not tell the whole story. Beneath this quiet and 
even plain exterior were hidden a reckless courage, an 
ardent ambition, and an unconquerable will. 

Once seated in the cabinet, Pickering threw himself 
with his accustomed zeal into the contests by which 



190 STUDIES JN HISTORY. 

the administration was sniTounded. The famous 
struggle over the Jay treaty had just begun, and on 
this matter, as on most others, Pickering was free 
from doubt or questioning. He supported the treaty 
and advised its signature, coupled with a strong re- 
monstrance against the British provision order. In 
the discovery of Randolph's infidelity Pickering played 
a leading part, and to him fell the duty of disclosing 
to Washington the conduct of his friend and prime 
minister. 

The fall of Randolph threw upon Pickering the 
temporary charge of both the state and war depart- 
ments, and never were his untiring energy, persistence, 
and capacity for work so strongly shown. Unable to 
fill the secretaryship of state, Washington at last con- 
ferred it permanently upon Pickering, and made Mc- 
Henry secretary of war. Pickering accepted this new 
position with unfeigned reluctance. Neither experi- 
ence nor habit of mind fitted him for the place ; but 
he would not desert Washington, and his invincible 
determination soon overcame every obstacle. He coidd 
not practice sufficiently the moderation required by 
the position, but he rapidly familiarized himself with 
foreign affairs, and his state papers are able and vig- 
orous. He proved a far better secretary than Ran- 
dolph, and if his dispatches were less polished, and 
his arguments less ingenious than those of Jefferson, 
he surpassed the great Virginian in directness and 
strength. 

The ratification of the Jay treaty was the signal for 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 191 

fresh difficulties with France. There is no evidence 
that Pickering- entered the cabinet with any violent 
prejudices against the " great nation " or in favor of 
England. But as his knowledge of our foreign re-, 
lations increased, as he perceived the uses which the 
opposition made of their affection for France, his 
feelings^ deepened and his hostility grew apace. In 
France he beheld the embodiment of the two forces, 
hateful to him above all others, — anarchy and 
tyranny. He believed the French Revolution to be 
little less than a crusade against religion, property, 
organized society, and the ordered liberty which he 
prized more than life itself ; while in the foe of 
France he saw a kindred people, a strongly governed 
state, and the sturdy, temperate freedom in whose 
principles he had been nurtured. Hatred of France 
rapidly extended to her American sympathizers, and 
strengthened his already firm conviction of the aban- 
doned wickedness of his political opponents. For 
the gratification of these feelings there was ample op- 
portunity given by the conduct of the French minis- 
ter, and Pickering speedily grappled with M. Adet in 
a manner most startling to a gentleman accustomed 
to the delicate manipulation of Edmund Randolph. 

In the midst of our complications with France, 
John Adams succeeded to the presidency, and retained 
Pickering as his secretary of state. If the outlook 
abroad was threatening, it was still more so at home, 
in regard to the party then dominant. The official 
head of the Federalists had ceased to be their real 



192 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

leader. The mastering influence of Washington no 
longer held the diverse elements in check, or com- 
pelled all to yield to his wise guidance. John Adams 
jwras the official chief, and meant to be the real one as 
well, while Hamilton was the actual head of the party, 
and had no notion of abdicating his controlling posi- 
tion. But there was also a third leader, in the person 
of Timothy Pickering, whose importance during these 
eventful years has never been justly appreciated. The 
admirers of Hamilton see in Pickering nothing but 
an obedient disciple. The supporters of Adams re- 
gard him as the tool and mouth-piece of Hamilton. 
If we accept Mr. Upham's authority as conclusive, 
Pickering was little more than a conscientious per- 
former of his official duties who had the misfortune to 
differ slightly with his chief. All these conceptions 
are alike erroneous. It is true that Hamilton alone, 
almost, among men received the utmost admiration 
and respect of which Pickering was capable. It is 
also true that Pickering sought Hamilton's advice, 
and that their views generally coincided. But Picker- 
ing was not the obedient disciple nor the willing tool 
of any man ; still less was he the simple secretary ab- 
sorbed in the duties of his office. He had his own 
opinions and his own policy, and he sought to carry 
them out as seemed best in his own eyes. He was, 
too, an active politician, and headed the attack on 
Adams long: before Hamilton took the field. He had 
not the slightest hesitation in opposing Hamilton, he 
acted constantly without his guidance, he sought in his 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 193 

own way to control the course of the administration, 
and he did more than any other man to precipitate 
the conflict which resulted in the downfall of Adams 
and the ruin of the Federalist party. The merest out- 
line of the contentions in the cabinet is sufficient to 
prove this. 

At a very early period Hamilton foresaw the ne- 
cessity of a special mission to France, and urged its 
adoption by Washington. Pickering, aided by Wol- 
cott, opposed it steadfastly, and kept it off during the 
closing weeks of Washington's administration, and it 
was ohly when Adams threw his weight into the same 
scale with Hamilton that Pickering gave way. Even 
then he and Wolcott were strong enough to prevent 
any further advances to Madison, who had been the 
central figure in Hamilton's scheme of an embassy. 
After the dispatch of the first envoys all went well for 
a time. The course of France, the insults of Talley- 
rand, and the publication of the X. Y Z. letters, roused 
a cry of rage throughout the land. Adams took the 
lead in his message, the country rallied enthusiasti- 
cally to his support, Pickering gave free rein in his 
report to his hatred of the French, and all the Feder- 
alist chiefs came forward to aid the President. But 
this ardent union carried the seeds of destruction, and 
the vigorous measures so unanimously urged by the 
Federalists were themselves the cause of divisions. 
The unlooked-for danger came from the appointments 
in the provisional army. In this matter Pickering 
looked to Hamilton as the proper person for command, 

13 



194 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

and on the nomination o£ Washington lost no time in 
urging' Hamilton's claim for the second place. A con- 
test, in which Pickering- took the lead, ensued as to 
the relative rank of the major-generals. In this 
first struggle with Adams he had every advantage, 
while his opponent put himself whoU}' in the wrong. 
Jealous of Hamilton's influence, disliking AVashing- 
ton's selection of him for the second place, Adams, 
in his eagerness to escape from what he considered 
one intrigue, fell a victim to another. He listened 
too readily to the representations of a little knot of 
Federalists, like himself unfriendly to Hamilton, and 
on perfectly untenable grounds determined to give the 
first place to Knox. Hamilton was ready to yield 
i:)recedence in deference to the wishes of Washing- 
ton, but he would not give waj'^ to those of Adams. 
As soon as the President's views became known, 
the Secretary of State, as well as Wolcott and Mc- 
Henry, made every effort to change them. Picker- 
ing roused his friends in New England to exert their 
influence with the President against the proposed 
change, and Adams, sensible of the pressure, hard- 
ened himself to resistance. But Pickering had still 
one card left, and he played it unhesitatingly. An 
appeal was made to Washington, whose wishes no man 
cared to dispute, and which, expressed in unmistakable 
terms, forced the President to give way. The victory 
at this stage remained with the cabinet ; and in the 
mean time another of less moment had been achieved 
by Pickering, unaided and alone. The President very 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 195 

unwisely nominated his son-in-law, Colonel Smith, for 
the responsible position of adjutant-general. Unable 
to prevent this nomination, which he deemed a most 
unfit one, Pickering posted down to the senate cham- 
ber to urge upon his friends there the necessity of its 
rejection. The precaution was superfluous, as Smith 
was thrown out by a large majority ; but the incident 
was not lost upon the President, who attributed this 
defeat, as he did everything of a hostile nature, to 
Hamilton, who had nothing to do with it, and at the 
same time he was much inflamed against Pickering, 
who was, in fact, wholly responsible. This little affair 
was hardly over before another difference arose, which 
still further estranged the President and his first sec- 
retary. Elbridge Gerry, one of the envoys to France, 
was warmly attached to Mr. Adams, and sincerely ad- 
mired him. It is not in human nature to feel other- 
wise than kindly to those who cherish such feelings 
toward us, for their very existence is a subtle flattery 
and a demand upon our gratitude to which we can- 
not but yield, even if the giver be a dog or a horse. 
John Adams was no exception to this universal rule, 
and he not only reciprocated Gerry's affection, but he 
seems also to have been convinced that Gerry was a 
man of great and varied talents. Pickering, on the 
contrary, in common with all the leading Federalists, 
believed Gerry to be a man of slender ability and 
feeble character. This belief was confirmed by Ger- 
ry's conduct in Paris, and dislike was fostered by the 
share which he was supposed to have taken m behalf 



196 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

of Knox in the matter of the army appoiiftments. 
Pickering wrote to George Cabot, " He [the Presi- 
dent] will be convinced of Gerry's disgraceful pusilla- 
nimity, weakness, duplicity, and, I think, treachery." 
Of course the President was convinced of nothing of 
the sort, and although his confidence in his favorite 
was so far shaken that he permitted a moderate cen- 
sure of his conduct in the first official reports, it 
rapidly revived as the quarrel with his cabinet pro- 
gressed. From the same cause Pickering's dislike of 
Gerry increased in an equal proportion. If Adams 
and Pickering could have been content with the re- 
proof already administered, and not sought the one to 
defend and the other to reprobate the unlucky envoy, 
all might have gone well. But neither was of this 
mind. Pickering, in the interests of what he deemed 
truth and sound policy, was bent on further reproof, 
while Adams, irritated at what he thought unnecessary 
severity, proposed to put Gerry on the same footing 
as Marshall and Pinckney. The President considered 
the Secretary to be influenced only by personal malice 
against both himself and his friend, while the Secre- 
tary saw in the President's course merely an insane 
affection for an unworthy man whom he desired to 
screen at the expense of his wiser and more virtuous 
colleagues. So Pickering drafted reports bristling 
with the severest reflections on Gerry, which the 
President either modified or struck out, and each was 
filled with intense indignation against the other. 
At last the quarrel came to a head, and the strife 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 197 

which had long been smouldering bi'oke out unre- 
strained. The President took the decisive step by ap- 
pointing a new mmister to France without previous 
consultation with his cabinet. For good and sufficient 
reasons Mr. Adams was convinced that there was still 
opportunity for an honorable treaty with France, and 
there was therefore no doubt that he ought, for the 
sake of the best interests of his country, to make 
peace. He erred profoundly in not consulting his cab- 
inet, even though he was assured of their united oppo- 
sition, and in attaining a gTeat end he gave a fatal 
blow to his party by his mistaken methods. To Pick- 
ering and all the war Federalists the whole business 
appeared simply criminal. They saw in it nothing 
but dishonor to their country and ruin to their party. 
So completely blinded were they to the true state of 
the case that they entirely failed to perceive that, if 
they were united, peace as well as war might be their 
salvation. Yet they felt themselves to be helpless, 
and the utmost they could effect was to send three com- 
missioners instead of one. With this tameness Pick- 
ering was dissatisfied. Could he have had his way, 
he would have brought in the Senate to control the 
President and reject the nominations on the ground 
that negotiation was inexpedient. But now, as in the 
near future, Pickering found no one ready to proceed 
to the extremities for which he was himseK prepared. 
The Federalists could not abandon the constitutional 
principle which they had themselves laid down as to 
the independence of the Executive. But, though fet- 



198 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

terecl in action, Pickering gave vent to fierce denuncia- 
tions of the President's course in letters to his friends 
in Massachusetts. These denunciations quickly got 
abroad, and the President, or some of his immedi- 
ate circle, retorted with the cry of " British faction." 
The quarrel was soon beyond the possibility of dis- 
guise ; the Federalist nomination had been made, the 
New York elections had occurred, party safety no 
longer seemed to demand an a])23earance of harmony, 
and Adams turned Pickering out of the cabinet, the 
latter — with characteristic stubbornness — having re- 
fused to resign. The case is sufficiently simple, yet 
Mr. Upham has dwelt upon the friendship between 
the President and his first minister until Pickering's 
expulsion becomes almost inexplicable. In reality, the 
only wonder is that they did not come to blows long 
before. There can be no doubt that if Adams had 
forced Pickering; out at the first indication of a set- 
tied opposition, and of one which he could not control, 
he would have acted wisely. As it was, the cabinet 
engaged in desperate warfare with the President, each 
faction found its supporters, and the whole party was 
torn to pieces. Pickering personally was not in the 
least dejected by his overthrow, for depression under 
defeat was at all times unknown to his strong nature. 
He merely fell back and renewed the conflict with in- 
creased vigor. His first idea at this moment was the 
political destruction of the President, whom he now 
believed to have gone over to the Democrats. He 
felt sui'e that party safety could not be secured except 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 199 

by tlie overthrow o£ Adams and the election of Pinck- 
ney, but he did not see that this plan, wise enough 
perhaps in the beginning, had been rendered impos- 
sible by the action of the party in their nomination. 
Further attacks could only make the matter worse. But 
Pickering never balanced advantages, and he now ad- 
dressed a series of letters to all the leading Federalists 
on the subject of his dismissal, portraying the Presi- 
dent's conduct in language which is remarkable for its 
unrestrained and vigorous invective, while the writer's 
peculiar attention to the most minute facts and exact 
details is nowhere so strikingly shown. These letters 
were in fact elaborate and picturesque indictments of 
the President, varying somewhat to suit the preju- 
dices of the recipient. The opening sentence of the 
letter to Pinckney, Pickering's candidate for the pres- 
dency, is jjerhaps the most concise expression of the 
writer's emotions at this time : — 

" Indignation and disgust, — these are and long 
have been my feelings towards Mr. Adams: disgust 
at his intolerable vanity ; indignation for the disgrace 
and mischief which his conduct has brought on the 
cause of federalism and the country. When I say 
' long have been,' I mean for near two years past, 
when I began to know him. In ascribing to Mr. Ad- 
ams ' upright views,' I refer to public measures in 
general. If you were to scan his actions minutely, 
you would find them influenced by selfishness, ambi- 
tion, and revenge ; that his heart is cankered with. 
envy, and deficient in sincerity ; that he is blind, stone 



200 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

blind, to his own faults and failings, and incapable of 
discerning the vices and defects of all his family con- 
nections. Hence his insatiable desire to provide in 
public offices for himself and them, and his injurious 
treatment of those who have opposed his wishes. Of 
this number I have the honor to be one." 

In one of these letters, written with no other object 
than to vindicate himself and save the party from the 
leadership of Adams, Pickering says, " You know that 
I have not the talent to lead a party, while you will 
allow me such a share of common-sense as must guard 
me against the miserable ambition and folly of at- 
tempting it." His hiunility, he says further, would 
have alone prevented him from trying to control the 
administration of government, and the charge that he 
did made such an effort was the offspring of jealousy 
which he pitied and despised. Pickering was not a 
man who ever disgniised his feelings, and his denial of 
a wish to lead a party or control the government was 
undoubtedly a matter of conscientious belief. His 
state of mind is a curious example of the Puritan habit 
of absorption in a cause. So firmly did Pickering be- 
lieve that he was right that he conceived there could 
be no honest difference of opinion, and he was thor- 
oughly convinced that all he had done was solely in 
behalf of abstract truth, where neither personal . inter- 
ests nor opinions entered. To him the contest did not 
appear as a conflict between opposing views, for both 
of which there was something to be said. Victory to 
him was not party victory, but a triumph of the prin- 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 201 

ciples of immutable justice. Defeat, was not party de- 
feat, but an overthrow of the powers of light by the 
powers of darkness. To him the maxim that there 
are two sides to every question seemed an insult to 
the understanding. There was right and wrong, and 
the eternal battle between them ; there could be noth- 
ing else. His mental attitude was that of the Puritan 
of the seventeenth century, who regarded everything 
he did as done for the service of God, in which no 
mere personal feelings or individual interests had 
part. But the Puritan who seemed to himself oxAj 
the poor instrument of a higher will stood before the 
world as a stern fanatic, a bold soldier, a wise states- 
man, and man of action. So Pickering, satisfied in 
his inmost soul that he was but the servant of truth, 
the defender of right, who was too wise to aspire to 
party leadership and too humble to seek control of the 
government, appeared to his fellow-men an ambitious 
and capable politician, an uncompromising partisan, 
an unflinching friend, and a relentless foe. From him 
Adams met the most determined resistance, and Pick- 
ering's attacks had deeply injured the party long be- 
fore Hamilton, in his famous pamphlet, dealt the 
final blow to union and mutual confidence. 

The dissolution of the cabinet was but the prelude 
to the downfall of the Federalists, and once more 
Pickering found himself deprived of public office and 
almost destitute of private property. In his own 
words, " Though ashamed to beg, he was able and will- 
ing to dig;" so he again turned his face toward the 



202 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

unsettled lands of the West, and with cheerful courage 
prej)ared to return to the wilderness. The delicate 
generosity of his personal and political friends, how- 
ever, saved him from this fate, and he came back to 
Massachusetts, destined never more to leave his na- 
tive State, whose people soon called him from his 
.farm to represent them in the Senate of the United 
States. I 

When Colonel Pickering reentered public life in 
1803 he found the political world something very 
different from what it had been in the days when as 
secretary of state he had helped to shape the policy 
of the nation. The Federalists in the Senate were 
so few in number as hardly to deserve the name of a 
minority. They were conspicuous for ability and de- 
termined purpose, but they were politically helpless. 
The Louisiana purchase had just been consummated. 
Jefferson's stealthy removals from office looked like the 
political proscription so unhappily familiar to a later 
generation ; the dominant party was growing rapidly, 
even in New England, and the constitutional amend- 
ment in regard to the manner of casting the electoral 
vote seemed calculated to insure the Democratic ten- 
ure of power. Worst of all, the courts, — the last 
Federalist strongholds, the only remaining bulwarks 
of good government, — were, as Pickering believed, 
menaced with destruction. There can be no doubt 
that the more violent Democrats aimed at a complete 
subversion of the judiciary, and here, certainly, the 
Federalists had good reason for alarm. Yet there 



I 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 203 

seemed no prospect of successful resistance to meas- 
ures fraught with such dreadful consequences. 

To Pickering, Louisiana meant only an indefinite 
extension of slave-holding territory, and the conse- 
quent political extinction of New England. Offices 
had become in his eyes nothing but a means of corrup- 
tion, contrived, like the constitutional amendment, to 
give permanency to the rule of Jefferson, and the judi- 
ciary, that last protection of life, property, and order, 
seemed to be crumbling beneath the blows of its as- 
sailants. From this torrent of evils there was appar- 
ently no escape. But while Pickering fully believed 
ruin to be approaching, he was not for an instant cast 
down. His courage rose with the emergency. In the 
rights of the States there was still one weapon for an 
oppressed minority, and to these Pickering and some 
of his associates turned as the last but certain remedy. 
They regarded secession as the final expedient, but 
nevertheless as a perfectly natural one ; and this, it 
must be remembered, was then the ahnost universal 
belief. The Union was new, was an experiment ; the 
state governments were old and well-tried. The only 
question with the men of that day was whether the ex- 
periment had permanently failed, and if this question 
was answered in the affirmative, then secession became 
not onl}^ a right but a duty. To Pickering the case 
was clear : the Union was a failure. His party, his 
State, and his principles were about to be effaced, and 
there was no assurance that liberty, property, and even 
life itseK would not soon be sacrificed in deference to 



204 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tlie wishes of the rabble. A few of his own sentences 
bring his opinions vividly before us, and show us the 
man, full of courage and determination, a leader among 
those who stood ready to tread the dangerous pathway 
of disunion. To Cabot, he says : " Mr. Jefferson's 
plan of destruction has been gradually advancing. If 
at once he had removed from office all the Federalists, 
and given to the people such substitutes as we gener- 
ally see, even his followers (I mean the mass) woidd 
have been shocked. He is still making progress in the 
same course ; and he has the credit of being the real 
source of all the innovations which threaten the sub- 
version of the Constitution, and the prostration of 
every barrier erected by it for tte protection of tlie 
hest^ and therefore to him the most obnoxious, part 
of the community. His instruments manifest tempers 
so malignant, so inexorable, as to convince observing 
Federalists that the mild manners and habits of our 
countrymen are the only security against their extreme 
vengeance. How long we shall enjoy even this se- 
curity, God only knows. And must we with folded 
hands wait the result, or timely think of other protec- 
tion ? This is a delicate subject. The principles of 
our Revolution point to the remedy, — a separation. 
. . . The people of the East cannot reconcile their 
habits, views, and interests with those of the South 
and West. The latter are beginning to rule with a 
rod of iron. The independence of the judges is now 
directly assailed, and the majority are either so blind 
or so well-trained that it will most undoubtedly be 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 205 

destroyed. New judges, of characters and tempers 
suited to the object, will be the selected ministers 
of vengeance. I am not willing to be sacrificed by 
such popular tyrants. My life is not worth mvich ; but 
if it must be offered up, let it rather be in the hope of 
obtaining a more stable government, under which my 
children, at least, may enjoy freedom wdth security." 

Pickering saw in Jefferson a fit leader for a party 
which sought, as he firmly believed, to establish the 
supremacy of the rabble. He writes to Rufus King, 
" The cowardly wretch at their head, while, like a 
Parisian revolutionary monster, prating about hmnan- 
ity, would feel an infernal pleasure in the utter de- 
struction of his oj^ponents. We have too long wit- 
nessed his general turpitude, his cruel removals of 
faithful officers, and the substitution of corruption 
and looseness for integrity and worth." 

In the same strain he wrote to Theodore Lyman : 
" Under such a man, and with the means he possesses 
and can command, corruption will continue to make 
rapid progress, all powxr will be thrown into tlie 
hands of his j)arty in all the States, and the Federal- 
ists will curse the day which detached them from the 
milder government of the mother country. 

" Such is the fate which awaits us, and we shall 
live to see it ; yes, the next presidential term will not 
elapse before what is now anticipated will be verified. 
One or two Marats or Robespierres in each branch of 
the legislature, with half a dozen hardened wretches 
ready to cooperate, a greater number of ha,lf-moder- 



206 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

ates, another portion of gaping expectants of office, 
another of the ignorant and nndiscerning, with the 
many timid characters, will constitute a large major- 
ity, up to any measure which the revenge, the malice, 
the ambitiou, or rapacity of the leaders shall propose. 
It will be enough, to render every such measure popu- 
lar, to declare its object to be to crush aristocracy and 
monarchy, and to secure liberty and republicanism. 

" And are oiu' good citizens so devoted to their pri- 
vate pursuits that they will not allow themselves time 
to look up and see the gathering cloud ? Will noth- 
ing rouse them but its thunder, or strike their eyes 
save the lightning bursting from its bosom ? " 

But Pickering and his associates in Congress utterly 
failed to catch the drift of public sentiment. The 
mists which hung over the Potomac then as now very 
often prevented politicians from beholding the coun- 
try at large, or at best presented an image wholly dis- 
torted and false to its original. The people of the 
United States were gratified by the Louisiana pur- 
chase, and the other dangers, so enormous in the eyes 
of the Federalist senators, did not impress the popular 
imagination. But the advocates of secession in Wash- 
ington were soon u.ndeceived. If they lacked the un- 
erring instinct, the keen jierception of the popular 
feeling which had enabled Jefferson, in 1799, success- 
fully to formulate and publish the doctrine of nul- 
lification, others possessed it, in a degree at least. 
When they applied for support and assistance to their 
party allies at home, some told them that separation 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 207 

was undesirable and unjustifiable; while others, ad- 
mitting its probability in the future, dissuaded any 
immediate movement. All alike refused aid or en- 
couragement, and the death of Hamilton destroyed 
even the prospect of discussing the project. 

Thus ended the Federalist scheme to dissolve the 
Union in 1804. The reelection of Jefferson followed 
hard upon it, and the next year, marked by signs of 
decay in the old parties, was the most gloomy period 
of Pickering's career. He seemed to be threatened 
with a general desertion, and though he would have 
gone on unflinchingly in his opposition to Jefferson, 
even if he had been the only opponent of the adminis- 
tration in the country, the idea filled him with sad- 
ness. When William Plumer, of New Hampshire, 
left the fast-thinning ranks of the Federalists, Picker- 
ing's bitterness knew no bounds. He says he is not 
surprised ; that he has long thought Plumer entitled 
to no confidence ; that Plumer is fitted by religion 
and moral principles to be Jefferson's helper, and has 
been known to say that he considered " John Randolph 
an honest man." Worst of all, Plumer had censured 
a Democrat for telling too freely his party secrets. 
" This single sentiment," says the old " Lover of 
Truth," " is enough, by itself, to seal a man's damna- 
tion." But the days of the Federalists were not yet 
over. The death-struggle between France and Eng- 
land again involved the interests of the whole civ- 
ilized world, and the timorous policy of Jefferson, built 
upon unsound theories and dictated by what was 



208 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

supposed to be the populai' wash, gave a great opening 
to the Federalists. They failed to grasp their opportu- 
nity and rise to national success, but they united New 
England against the administration. Into the bitter 
contest caused by the embargo, Pickering flung him- 
self, heart and soul. An old belief, laid aside for a 
time, once more took possession of his mind. Jeffer- 
son was the tool of France ; France was the universal 
spoiler and tyrant ; England the defender of liberty 
and society. The duty of every right-thinking and 
God-fearing man was plain. He must side with Eng- 
land and resist to the death Napoleon Bonaparte and 
his minion, Thomas Jefferson. But Pickering did not 
abandon the creed of 1804. He still clung to the 
text of the Federalist preacher, which was often in his 
own mouth : " Come out therefore from among them, 
and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the 
unclean thing ; and I will receive you and be a father 
to you ; ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the 
Almighty." The uncleanness of the Democrats, al- 
ways extreme in Pickering's eyes, was now increased 
tenfold by their affection for France and their hostil- 
ity to England, while at the same time he regarded 
their restrictive measures as the worst form of tyr- 
anny. " How are the powers," asked Pickering of 
Christopher Gore, " reserved to the States respec- 
tively, or to the people, to be maintained, but by the 
respective States judging for themselves, and putting 
their negative on the usurpations of the general gov- 
ernment ? " The same spirit breathes in the famous 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 209 

embargo letter addressed by Pickering to Governor 
Sullivan, and read by men of all parties throughout 
the land, and by the leaders in Europe as well. The 
governor was no match for the champion who had 
thus assailed him, but there were others more equal to 
the contest. John Quincy Adams took up the gaunt- 
let which Pickering had thrown down, and replied to his 
letter with unsparing vigor. Nothing, however, could 
stay Pickering at this moment, — perhaps the happiest 
of his life. In the thick of a desperate contest, in a 
hopeless minority, witli the eyes of the nation fixed on 
him, the unquestioned leader of his party in public 
life, the acknowledged defender of principles which he 
felt to be sacred, Pickering displayed all the strong- 
est qualities of his powerful nature, and although we 
may deem them misapplied we cannot withhold our 
admiration from their possessor. Again, however, he 
was destined to disappointment. He had the popular 
feeling in New England on his side this time, but the 
party leaders, much as they delighted in his fighting 
qualities, were not prepared for his extreme measures. 
They would not abandon the opportunity of national 
success as a party afforded in the embargo in favor of 
any plans for disunion. Pickering, too, had his eye 
on the nation as well as on the State, but the coalition 
with northern Democrats which he aimed at broke 
down, and the Federalists failed at every point. They 
forced the repeal of the embargo, and embittered by 
defeat the last hours of Jefferson's public life; but 
that was all. 

u 



210 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

The next election deprived Pickering of his seat in 
the Senate, but he was in the House of Representa- 
tives shortly after the outbreak of the war with Eng- 
land. He believed the time had again come for a 
decided movement, yet the eastern States still hung 
back. The progress of the war, however, brought 
angry quarrels between New England and the general 
government. They refused to assist each other, and 
the year 1814 found the eastern coasts exposed to 
devastation, and the eastern people worn and impov- 
erished by the sufferings of war. At last came the 
call for the Hartford convention. Pickering, who had 
unceasingly urged strong measures on the Massachu- 
setts legislature, felt that the decisive moment was at 
hand, and he sent elaborate letters to his correspond- 
ents, pointing out the proper course to be pursued by 
the convention. He saw that a general dissolution 
was settino- in, and he had no doubt that the British 
expedition to New Orleans woidd result in the sever- 
ance of the western States, an event which he be- 
lieved to be for the best interests of the country. De- 
cisive action by New England at such a moment might 
result, not in a northern confederacy, but in a union 
of the " good old thirteen States," dominated and con- 
trolled by New England principles. The Hartford 
convention met and did its work, not at all in Picker- 
ing's spirit, but quite to his satisfaction, for he felt 
that it was an irrevocable step, and the beginning of a 
movement which subsequent events would determine. 

But even while Pickering was speculating about the 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 211 

future and dreaming of the downfall of the back- 
woods democracy, news came of the treaty of Ghent, 
and then, with scarcely a breathing space, of the battle 
of New Orleans. All was over. The bitter struggle 
of the past fifteen years was at an end, and a new 
political era had begun. It must have been to Pick- 
ering a cruel disappointment. The hope of coercing 
the South, of building up anew the power of New 
England, was destroyed, and whatever personal ambi- 
tion he may then have had was blasted. He saw it all 
at a glance, but we can only conjecture the bitterness 
of his feelings, for he gave no sign. However much 
he may have repined, no one knew of it. Useless lam- 
entation was not in his nature, and he had, besides, 
the consolation of seeing all the Federalist methods of 
government adopted by the new war democracy. We 
must not, therefore, overrate his disappointment, for, 
ardently as Pickering had worked for a separation, he 
did not regard it as a good in itself, but merely as a 
means to an end, as the last resort to rectify bad gov- 
ernment and establish the reign of the best political 
princij)les. In other words, he desired the supremacy 
of New England, and he believed that by separation 
he could coerce the other States into submission to 
New England principles, or else that a northern con- 
federacy would be formed in which New England 
would be master. The establislunent of the methods 
in government which he cherished, and the downfall 
of Napoleon, whom he abhorred, were sources of great 
and endurino- satisfaction. He did not s^rieve for the 



212 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

unattainable, nor despair because the government was 
that of a pure democracy. He refused a reelection to 
Congress, withdrew to his Essex farm, and, laying 
aside his weapons, relapsed into a cheerful content- 
ment and the enjoyment of his favorite pursuit of ag- 
riculture. 

Yet he could not wholly abstain from politics. 
When, in after years, the old controversies were in 
any way revived, his spirits rose, and the attraction of 
the battle was irresistible. The most conspicuous in- 
stance of this sort was occasioned by the publication 
of the "• Cunningham correspondence." These letters 
were given to the public through a most infamous 
breach of confidence, in order to serve party malice 
and raise the feeling in Massachusetts against John 
Quincy Adams, then a candidate for the jjresidency. 
William Cunningham had insinuated himself into the 
friendship of John Adams, and had succeeded in 
drawing from the old statesman a series of letters 
covering many years and relating chiefly to the agi- 
tated period of the last Federalist administration. 
These were the papers which Cunningham's son now 
gave to the world, and they answered his purpose to 
the extent of angering the surviving Federalists, of 
awakening old and bitter memories, and of bringing 
Pickering once more into the field of political con- 
troversy. In these letters, John Adams, trusting to 
the seal of secrecy which he had imposed, had poured 
forth, with his customary impetuosity, all his hatred 
of his Federalist opponents. He not merely attacked 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 213 

his old enemies, but lie made charges of all sorts 
against them, — some, no doubt, well-founded, but 
others, too, which had no support except worn-out and 
exaggerated scandal. These assaults carried Picker- 
ing back a quarter of a century, and he promptly took 
down his armor and prepared to fight his battles over 
again with the same unquenchable vigor, the same 
gaudium certaminis, as in 1799, John Adams's 
rather vague accusations and loosely-worded version 
of past events, though natural enough in an intimate 
and strictly private correspondence, were poor mate- 
rial for public warfare. They offered no resistance to 
Pickering's carefully planned attack. Fortified with 
documents, and with all his usual attention to details, 
Pickering reviewed, or rather tore to pieces, the Cun- 
ningham letters. His powers of invective were still 
undiminished, and the sharp, incisive language in 
which he assailed Mr. Adams shows no abatement in 
his warlike strength, and no flickering in the fierce 
flame of party hostility. His pamphlet would have 
been remarkable for any man, but as the work of one 
verging upon eighty it is a mai-velous production. The 
bodily and mental fibre which made him capable of 
such an effort must have been tough indeed. But 
Pickering's resentments were interwoven with his most 
deeply-rooted principles, were part of his very being, 
and could cease only with life itself. Shortly before 
his death he was invited by Mr. Thorndike, of Bev- 
erly, to dine with him in company with John Quincy 
Adams, at that time President of the United States. 



214 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Pickering's hostility was never of the kind which leads 
men to shun meeting their opponents. His consist- 
ent theory was that in attacking a man's character 
and principles he was not actuated by any personal 
feelings, and he would have deemed it in some sort 
cowardly to manifest any objection to sitting at the 
same table with an adversary. In this particular in- 
stance he regarded Mr. Adams as an apostate, and 
there exists among his papers a vigorous definition of 
the crime of apostacy, clearly intended to cover Mr. 
Adams's case. At the same time, however, Pickering 
did not desire his host to imagine that because he con- 
sented to dine with the President he had on any point 
changed his views as to the character of that eminent 
person. Silence in such a case seemed, therefore, to 
savor of deception, and he accordingly addressed to 
Mr. Thorndike the foUowino; note : — 

Salem, September, 19, 1827. 
Dear Sir, — I intended to visit Wenham to-day 
with my wife, and on our return to call to see you and 
Mrs. Thorndike ; but the rain preventing, I am by 
this note to acknowledge the receipt of your invita- 
tion to dinner next Wednesday, " to meet President 
Adams." On the supposition that I should need some 
prejyaration for the meeting, this notice was kindly 
intended ; but I needed none. Whenever I should 
meet Mr. Adams I should be civil ; certainly so when 
meeting as guests at the hospitable table of a friend. 
But knowing, as I do, his whole political career, — the 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 215 

slanderer of Ames and Cabot, and an apostate from 
the federal principles which I have always held in 
common with those eminent citizens and other un- 
changing patriots, — it is impossible for me to respect 
him. It was his apostacy which gained him the high 
object of his selfish ambition, the presidency of the 
United States. 

I accept with pleasure your invitation to dinner. 
Very respectfully, 

T. PiCKEEING. 
Hon. Israel Thorndike, Beverly. 

Shortly after this meeting came the presidential 
election. The extinction of the Federalists had made 
it possible for Pickering to regard the existing parties 
with some degree of indifference, and though it must 
have cost the old man an effort to support a candidate 
put forward by the legitimate political successors of 
Jefferson, yet personal feelings j)re vailed. Andrew 
Jackson had been always an open enemy, but his op- 
ponent was John Quincy Adams, the renegade Feder- 
alist and the son of John Adams. Pickering could 
not resist the temptation. For the last time he en- 
tered the field of jDolitics to oppose Adams and ad- 
vocate the election of Jackson. His vigorous articles 
showed little relaxation of the old energy of purpose 
and the old strength of conviction, but this was the 
final effort. Before Jackson was inaugurated, before 
Adams had returned to private life to answer once 
more, if he had so desired, his ancient and unforgiv- 
ing foe, Pickering died. The last sounds that reached 



216 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

his ear from the battle-field of politics announced the 
defeat of his enemy, and the grave closed over him 
before that enemy could retaliate. The last blow had 
been struck, the last word said, in the long strife of 
twenty-five years, by the strong old warrior, whose 
spirit nearly ninety years had failed to tame. 

I have tried to outline briefly this remarkable 
career, dwelling chiefly on those events which have the 
deej^est personal and historical significance, and which 
his biographer saw fit to pass over in silence. Apart, 
however, from its purely historic value, the story of 
Colonel Pickering's life reveals a character fruitful in 
interest to every student of human nature. The pre- 
dominant qualities were strong, direct, and simj)le, yet 
we are occasionally met by contradictions so glaring 
that they upset every calculation and seem to paralyze 
analysis. The character of Timothy Pickering cannot 
be thoroughly appreciated without a constant recur- 
rence to the marked and jDCCuliar qualities, mental and 
moral, of the Puritan race from which he sprang and 
of which he was a type. The Puritans who up took 
arms against Charles I. were men absorbed in the great 
thought of religion. All other objects were to be at- 
tained merely as means to the one great end, — the 
establishment of the kingdom of Christ by his chosen 
people. This religious fervor slowly abated, but the 
principle of utter devotion to a great cause was too 
deeply branded in their nature to be soon effaced. 
This quality has been conspicuous among the descend- 
ants of the Puritans ; it has led to their greatest glo- 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 217 

ries, and in like manner it lias been the source of some 
of their most grievous errors. In it can be found the 
key to the characters of some of the most remarkable 
men in our history. This, as well as other less un- 
usual traits of the Puritan character, was possessed in 
a marked degree by Colonel Pickering. 

He was a man of the most reckless coui-age, physical 
as well as moral, and there was nothing which so 
strongly moved his contempt as wavering or hesita^ 
tion. It was this which caused his strong distrust of 
Harrison Gray Otis, " whose capital defect was tim- 
idity." Hardly less remarkable was his confidence in 
himself, his principles, and his beliefs. The idea that 
he might be in the wrong never finds the slightest ac- 
knowledgment in his letters or speeches. On one or 
two occasions he was not without misgivings as to his 
ability to perform some trying duty, or fill some high 
office, but no shadow of doubt ever fell upon him as 
to his opinions after they had once been formed. 
When he had settled in his own mind what was right, 
he pursued it undeviatingiy and without the slightest 
trace of hesitation. Mr. Upham says that Pickering 
was not prejudiced. A more extraordinary estimate 
of character it would be difficult to find. Pickering's 
prejudices, and liis unswerving adherence to them at 
all times and seasons, were one great secret of his 
success, and this is merely the statement of a gen- 
eral truth. The majority of successful men are the 
men of intense prejudices and intense convictions. 
They may not be of so high a type as the broad and 



218 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

liberal - minded men, but they attain the greatest 
measure of immediate and practical success. They 
appeal most strongly to the sympathies and passions 
of their fellow-men ; for to the mass of humanity lib- 
erality is apt to look like indifPerentism, and inde- 
pendence like unreliable eccentricity. Utter and whole- 
souled belief in themselves and their cause was the 
grandest feature in the character of the Puritans. Yet 
this belief is but prejudice in its highest form, and of 
strong prejudices in all forms Pickering was an ex- 
ponent. This assured confidence in his own prin- 
ciples and motives explains also the somewhat strange 
nature of his personal enmities. When we read his 
fierce denunciations of the elder Adams, and then 
find him saying that " he had no resentment toward 
Mr. Adams," the contradiction seems hopeless, for 
Pickering never used words to conceal thought. The 
fact is that his hostility, although directed compre- 
hensively against Mr. Adams's actions, opinions, and 
character, was not dictated by any small feelings of 
jealousy, revenge, or personal spite, and ill-will. To 
Pickering everything resolved itself into the strife be- 
tween good and evil. As the champion of the former, 
he felt it to be his duty, as he said to Lowell, " in 
this wicked world, though he could not restore it to 
innocence, to strive to jj re vent its growing worse ; " 
and he had no patience with the good-humored cyni- 
cism of his friend George Cabot, wlien the latter said, 
" Why can't you and I let the world ruin itself in its 
own way ? " Such speeches sank deep into Picker- 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 219 

ing's mind, and he never thought of them without 
sorrow. This unconquerable belief in the justice of 
one's cause sometimes leads to a subjection of means 
to ends, a danger from which Pickering did not wholly 
escape. Confidence in his own rectitude was the pre- 
vailing reason for his love of plain statements, amount- 
ing at times to an almost brutal frankness. But he 
felt himself to be the defender not merely of the right 
in general, but of truth and honesty in particular. On 
these last qualities he justly prided himself ; but here, 
as in all cases, the strength of his conviction led him 
to extremes. So wholly did he desire the fortiter in 
re that in public life, at least, he generally sacrificed 
the suaviter in modo. 

In one important particular Pickering differed 
widely from those political and personal friends with 
whom he was most closely allied. They were, as a 
rule, genuine aristocrats in feeling, while Pickering 
was at bottom a democrat. He had a profound con- 
tempt not merely for such trappings as heraldic bear- 
ings but for any distinctions which he conceived to be 
in the least artificial or based on aught but the qualities 
and services of the individual man. Yet he was not 
wanting in caste feeling of another sort. He had all 
the pride of the Puritan who gloried in belonging to 
the chosen people of God. Within certain limits 
Pickering was a democrat, pure and slmiDle, but he 
looked upon all who stood beyond the pale very much 
as the Greek regarded the barbarian. This peculiar- 
ity is curiously manifested in his religious belief, for 



220 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

wMle he never for a moment doubted his own security 
of a blessed immortality, he conceived that but few 
of his fellow-men would share in this future felicity. 
In condoling with a friend upon the loss of a son, he 
says : " But we do not grieve as those who have no 
hope. We look forward to a brighter and a happier 
world, where sorrow shall cease, and where all tears 
shall be wiped from our eyes. How blest are they 
who entertain such hopes ! How wretched those, like 
numbers round me here (Washington in 1804), whose 
views extend not beyond the grave, and whose best 
refuge is annDiilation ! " In the same way he exliibits 
the most intense local pride and the strongest affection 
for his birthplace : " Not that every part of the Union 
is alike to me," he says ; " my affections still flow 
in what you will deem their natural order, — toward 
Salem, Massachusetts, New England, the Union at 
large." Again, he says, " Such events would not have 
happened in New England. I rejoice that I can. call 
<Aa^ my country. I think myself honored by it." Pick- 
ering's theory of society was the ideal New England 
democracy, where all the chosen race were alil^e before 
Heaven and before man, but where virtue and ability 
received unhesitating deference and maintained an un- 
questioned leadership. 

Pickering's aversion to aristocracy in the ordinary 
sense of the word, and his hatred of shams and false 
pretenses, carried him far in devotion to the nil ad- 
7)%iraTi principle. " How little virtue," he says, " is 
there amona: mankind ! How small the number whose 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 221 

actions are not dictated by their interest or passions ! " 
No man was stancher or truer to his friends, but he 
never permitted affection to blind him to their faults. 
With the single exception, perhaps, of John Adams, 
Pickering was the only Federalist who had a moderate 
estimate of Washington's abilities, and of this oj^inion 
he made no secret. He respected Washington's char- 
acter, and he even felt awed by the grandeur of Wash- 
ing-ton's personal presence, but he could not understand 
him, nor could he perceive in their full extent those 
great qualities of mind and heart before which men of 
all nations have bowed in reverence. The only man 
whom he thoroughly admired was Hamilton. The 
clear, penetrating intellect, commanding will, unhesi- 
tating decision, and indomitable energy of that great 
man appealed most strongly to Pickering, and to Ham- 
ilton he yielded an admiration and respect which he 
withheld from all others, although even here he would 
never sacrifice his own opinion. 

If Pickering was true to his friendships, he was no 
less faithful to his enmities, performing in both re- 
spects what he believed to be his duty. He was always 
collecting evidence on every jjoint, no matter how tri- 
fling, which might aid in the exposure of his opponents 
to the world in their real characters, and thus benefit 
the country and illumine dark places for the peojile 
with the light of truth. With this view he gathered 
a vast quantity of material, a small portion of which 
lie used in his political controversies, but which w^as in- 
tended" in the main for memoirs of his contemporaries. 



222 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

These memoirs in a rougli state are preserved among 
his manuscripts, and would furnish a most entertain- 
ing and vakiable book if fully published. 

Such are some of the more uncommon traits in this 
remarkable character. Other attributes, such as his 
industry, energy, untiring persistence, and capacity for 
work, are apparent in every page of his biography. 
In Timothy Pickering the defects as well as the virtues 
were positive and strongly marked. There was noth- 
ing negative, doubtful, or colorless in his composition. 
The same was true of his mind. His intellect was 
strong, active, and f idl of vitality and force, but essen- 
tially narrow. Within certain limits his mental vision 
was wonderfully clear and acute, but outside those 
limits he saw nothing. He was not liomo unius libri, 
for in many fields of human thought he showed an 
equal capacity and strength. But in all alike he 
worked within certain well-defined and immvitable 
bounds, beyond which he never passed. He did not 
belong to that small class of far-sighted statesmen who 
build for unborn generations and weigh the most re- 
mote effects of their actions. Pickering rarely looked 
into the future at all, but he saw the present with won- 
derful distinctness, and dealt with it as he found it, 
untroubled with misgivings as to what was to come 
after. 

But when all is said, when analysis has done its 
work and posterity pronounced its unimpassioned ver- 
dict, we still come back to the stern conviction, the 
michanging will, the unflinching courage of the man 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 223 

with an increased measure of admiration and sympathy. 
No doubt Timothy Pickering made many mistakes, 
and in some instances acted wrongly and unwisely, but 
throughout his life he was imbued to the full with the 
spirit of the great Puritan captain, when among the 
mists of Dunbar he cried out, " Let God arise ; let his 
enemies be scattered." This spirit, with all its short- 
comings, is one the world cannot afford to lose, or men 
of Enolish race forg-et. 



CALEB STEONG.i 



The subject of this sketch is one of the almost for- 
gotten worthies of Massachusetts, and he is at the 
same time a man who for many reasons well deserves 
remembrance. Caleb Strong was in active public life 
for forty years. He had in his day a national reputa- 
tion as one of the framers of the Constitution of the 
United States and as a leading senator for the first 
seven years of the new government. In his own State 
he played a still more important part. He was elected 
governor of the Commonwealth ten times and defeated 
once. He was a leader in the convention which gave 
a constitution to Massachusetts, and was closely iden- 
tified with her history from the revolution down to 
the close of his life in 1817. Such a career indicates 
a remarkable power of gaining and retaining the con- 
fidence of the people, and when it is remembered that 
he was the war governor in the troubled days of 1812 
it is e\adent that he had other and stronger qualities 
than mere personal popularity. 

But it is as a type of the New England Puritan and 

^ This sketch was prepared originally as a memoir, at the re- 
quest of the Massachusetts Historical Society, from whose early 
proceedings it is now reprinted. 



CALEB STRONG. 225 

Massachusetts Federalist that Caleb Strong is most in- 
teresting at the present day. A man who could ad- 
here strictly to the doctrines of the most rigid Feder- 
alism and yet have such a hold uponthe people and pass 
through years of difficult public service without a quar- 
rel and without becoming the subject of unmeasured 
invective is an interesting study. Colonel Pickering 
was a type of the extreme Federalist, and yet, although 
he and Governor Strong held the same general views, 
the two men present a most marked contrast. Pick- 
ering's life was one of storm and battle. He had des- 
perate conflicts with all who w^ere opposed to him, and 
never spared either friend or foe when his principles 
were assailed. He was reckless, bold, and aggressive. 
His friend and correspondent. Governor Strong, was 
quite as rigid in his opinions, and in the early years 
of the century was as determined a champion of 
state's-rights as the combative colonel. Yet Caleb 
Strong, without arousing the enthusiasm evoked by 
an ardent and extreme leader, and without constant 
and exciting personal warfare, obtained a measure of 
public confidence to which Pickering never attained. 

The fact is that the combination of firmness and 
moderation, of calm sense and absolute devotion to 
conviction, so conspicuous in the character of Caleb 
Strong, made him a thorough representative of the 
class which formed the strength of the Puritans both 
in Old and New England. In times of great excite- 
ment the extremists always come to the front, and 
leave the deepest mark upon the events in which they 

15 



226 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

take part, and this was, of course, the case with the 
Puritans. But it falls to the lot of the quieter, more 
moderate, and more commonplace men to furnish the 
backbone and sinew of every great and successful 
movement, whether it be social or political. The lead- 
ers in this class, although less conspicuous and less 
impressive, are of a vast importance, and any man who 
fully represents them is well worth our consideration. 
The Federalist party of New England was essentially 
a Puritan party made up of men of English race and 
of that part of the race which has left the deepest im- 
press upon the history of English-speaking people. A 
man who in his day and generation was put forward 
again and again as the best and most popular repre- 
sentative of the mass of the Federalist party in Mas- 
sachusetts has a strong claim upon our remembrance, 
apart from the offices he filled and the stirring events 
in which he was prominent. It is well to turn aside 
occasionally from the more brilliant leaders and study 
the character and career of such a man as this, and 
in these days of evolution the first step is to glance 
briefly at the origin and pedigree of any one whom we 
venture to call typical and representative. 

The great emigration of Puritan Englishmen began 
in 1630, when Charles I. resolved to govern without a 
Parliament, and when certain of his subjects deter- 
mined to carry to the New World the political liberty 
and the religious faith which were in peril in the Old, 
Among the emigrants from England, in 1630, was 
John Strong of Somersetshire, a typical representa- 



CALEB STRONG. 227 

tive of that vigorous middle class in which Puritanism 
found its strength. He was only twenty-five years 
old when he left England, and he had scarcely reached 
America when death deprived him of both wife and 
child whom he had brought with hun, and left him 
alone to face the trials of a life of hardship and ex- 
posure. Such a bereavement must have been a severe 
ordeal at the very beginning of a new career, but the 
sturdy young Puritan faced his troubles manfully. 
Before 1630 had expired, he consoled himself by a 
second marriage, taking to wife Abigail Ford, of 
Dorchester, where he first settled. A few years later, 
he removed to Windsor, Connecticut, and thence, in 
1659, to Northampton, Massachusetts. The first task 
of the founders of this new community was to gather 
a church, and choose John Strong to be its ruling 
elder. This was a highly responsible position in the 
early days and in the little country villages of New 
England, and its possessor was generally the lead- 
ing man of the town, second only to the minister in 
dignity and importance. Respected and respectable 
John Strong ruled over the Northampton church for 
forty years ; established a tannery ; was honest, fru- 
gal, and industrious ; and brought up to man's and 
woman's estate a numerous family. Here, in 1699, 
as the famous seventeenth century was passing away, 
with all its great events, into the domain of history. 
Elder John died at the ripe age of ninety-four. He 
left nearly one hundred and fifty direct descendants, 
covering three generations, and all his sixteen children 



228 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

survived him. The race, so well started by its founder, 
has grown and expanded until, at the present day, two 
large octavo volumes hardly afford sufficient space to 
register the names of John Strong's descendants. His 
fifth son, Ebenezer, was the father of six children, 
of whom the third was a son named Jonathan, who 
had in his turn no less than seventeen children. The 
second son of this numerous family was named Caleb, 
who in course of time married, and, departing from 
the custom of his ancestors, had only one son. The 
diminution of numbers seems to have resulted, how- 
ever, in a development of ability, for this only son was 
destined to be the most distinguished of his name, 
and the most famous among the multitude of John 
Strong's descendants. Caleb Strong, fourth in descent 
from the old ruling elder, the future senator and gov- 
ernor, and the subject of this sketch, was born at 
Northampton, January 9, 1745. From the preceding 
brief outline of his genealogy, it will be seen that he 
sprang from a pure English stock, and that his family 
was one of the most important in his native town and 
county. His j)arents are said to have been " distin- 
guished for original strength of mind and sound judg- 
ment, as well as for their prudent, pious, and exem- 
plary Christian development." These latter qualities, 
always highly valued among the Puritans, had a spe- 
cial significance at Northampton in the middle of the 
eighteenth century, for the minister of the parish 
at that time was the most famous theologian of New 
England, a man whose acute and powerful reasoning 



CALEB STRONG. 229 

spread his reputation far beyond the narrow limits of 
a Massachusetts village, and made his name familiar 
wherever the English language was spoken and the 
doctrines of Calvin were cherished. Jonathan Ed- 
wards had already "made full proof of his ministry" 
in Northampton for nearly twenty years at the time of 
Caleb Strong's birth. In the controversy which soon 
after ensued between the minister and a portion of his 
parish concerning the " Halfway Covenant," Mr. and 
Mrs. Strong took no active part, but they fully sym- 
pathized with their distinguished pastor. The re- 
ligious influences of Caleb Strong's childhood and 
youth were, therefore, unusually powerful, and they 
were not without a marked effect upon his character. 
Throughout his life he was a devout and religious 
man, and steadily adhered to the sober and rigid faith 
of his forefathers. His moderate and gentle disposi- 
tion, however, and the temper of the times in which 
he lived, saved him from the sternness and bigotry 
which have always been the dangers of the creed that 
he professed. 

Mr. and Mrs. Strong were resolved that their only 
son, upon whom all their hopes were centred, should 
have the best education that could then be obtained. 
Young Strong was accordingly placed with the Kev. 
Samuel Moody, of York, Maine, a noted teacher of 
the day, by whom he was fitted for college. Mr. 
Strong entered Harvard in 1760, and graduated in 
due course in 1764. In these years of study he dis- 
played an exemplary character and marked ability, 



230 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

and profited so well by his opportunities tliat he re- 
ceived the highest honors at his graduation. As he 
was traveling" homeward from college, he fell a victim 
to that scourge of the last century, the small-pox, 
from which he barely escaped with his life, and with 
his eyesight seriously impaired. From this misfortune 
he never wholly recovered, and it was at first a pe- 
culiarly severe trial to a young, successful, and am- 
bitious scholar, who had just selected the law for his 
profession. With admirable courage, he determined 
to persevere in his choice, and the devotion of his 
family enabled him to prosecute liis studies. His 
father and sisters read to him the few law books from 
which all legal education was then derived, including 
Coke upon Littleton, in folio, which must, indeed, 
have appeared to these affectionate but unprofessional 
readers, as it did to King James, " like the peace of 
God, which passeth all understanding." The knowl- 
edge thus painfully acquired, however, was sound and 
accurate, and the method of study, slow, thorough, 
and necessitating constant thought, undoubtedly con- 
tributed to Mr. Strong's subsequent success at the 
bar. In advising his son, many years afterwards, as 
to the value of study, he says : — 

" I wished you to be convinced of the importance 
of improving your time well. Let none of it be 
wasted in idleness or unprofitable amusement. Some 
exercise is necessary to your health, — especially walk- 
ing some distance every day when the weather and 
ways are good ; but lounging about and hanging over 



CALEB STRONG. 231 

the fences, or sitting a long time in other people's 
rooms, can have no tendency to promote your health 
or reputation. If your eyes are fatigued at any time, 
you may lay aside your book and reflect on what you 
have read with as much advantage as if you continued 
reading. In this way I have acquired a principal 
part of the little knowledge I have." 

Arduously and slowly Mr. Strong worked his way 
through the difficulties which beset his legal studies. 
His careful reflection and patient thought made him a 
good lawyer, and his perseverance in adverse circum- 
stances appealed effectively to the members of the pro- 
fession in his native county, who had recently deter- 
mined to exclude from their ranks all new aspirants 
for legal honors, and in 1772 Mr. Strong was admitted 
to the bar. But while, with infinite toil, he had been 
acquriring the theory of law, he had at the same time 
been learning its practice under the best auspices. In 
the office of Joseph Hawley, the leading patriot of 
western Massachusetts, Mr. Strong studied not only 
law, but politics as well. It was a good school for 
both.^ " We must fight," said Hawley, before even 

^ It has been alleged by high authoi'ity {Proceedings of the 
Mass. Hist. Soc. 1876-77, p. 397) that Mr. Strong was one of 
those who signed the Complimentary Address of the Barristers 
and Attorneys to Governor Hutchinson, on his departure. Many 
men, who afterward espoused the cause of the Revolution, signed 
this document ; but without the fullest and most convincing 
proof, I find it difficult to believe that Caleb Strong was among 
them. Such an act would have been at variance with all we 
know of his principles at that time, with the influences by which 



232 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tlie few who were of that opinion had dared to express 
their thoughts. With such a friend and mentor, Mr. 
Strong ranged himself at an early day upon the pa- 
triotic side. Law and politics went hand in hand. 
He was admitted to the bar, as has been said, in 1772, 
and in the same year was chosen a selectman of his 
native town. At the very outset of his career, his 
moderate disposition and quiet manners commended 

he was surrounded, aud with his whole subsequent career. His 
name does not appear in Curweu's list {Curweii's Journal, ed. 
1842, pp. 428, 429), nor in the lists printed in the newspapers of 
the day (see Boston Post-Boy, May 30 and June 6, and Boston 
News-Letter, June 2, 1774, which contain all the lists mentioned 
by Governor Hutchinson in his History, iii. 459), and the au- 
thority for its insertion in the revised list is not given by Mr. 
Ames in the Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society. 
John Adams ( Works, x. 38) says that Mr. Strong's name is 
appended to an Address to General Gage. This is even more im- 
probable than in the case of Hutchinson. Mr. Strong's name is 
not in the list of those who addressed Gage on his arrival. (See 
News-Letter, June 9, 1774.) Gage, however, received (October 6 
and 7, 1775) two Addresses on his departure, — one from the 
loyalists of Boston, the other from those of the country. In neither 
of these lists does the name of Caleb Strong occur^ and there 
was none from the bar, as is stated by John Adams. (See Essex 
Gazette, October 26, 1775.) That the pupil and colleague of 
Hawley should have signed an Address to Hutchinson is unlikely 
enough ; but it is absolutely incredible that a member of the 
Provincial Congress and of the Northampton Committee of 
Safety, universally trusted and respected, should have been 
guilty of such stupid duplicity and folly as to sign an Address to 
Gage in 1775, after war had actually begun. I have not been 
able to find any foundation for the charges of Mr. Ames or of 
John Adams. 



CALEB STRONG. 233 

him to the confidence and the good-will of his fellow- 
men, and with this election to the highest post in his 
native village began a long career of public service. 
The qualities which enabled Mr. Strong to hold office 
for nearly half a century were evidently conspicuous 
at the very beginning of his active life. In 1774 he 
was chosen, together with Hawley, to represent North- 
ampton in the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts. 
At the same time he became a member of the North- 
ampton Committee of Safety, a position which he con- 
tinued to hold during the war. He here rendered 
efficient service to the cause of the revolution, al- 
though his weakened eyesight i)revented him from 
serving his country in the field. Despite the troubled 
times, Mr. Strong appears to have rapidly gained pro- 
fessional reputation, and, in 1776, he was appointed 
county attorney, an office which he filled acceptably 
for twenty-four years. He rose in political life even 
more rapidly, being chosen to represent Northampton 
in the convention of 1779, which framed the Consti- 
tution of Massachusetts. Large as this convention 
was, it was no slight honor to be numbered among 
its members. All that Massachusetts could boast of 
ability and worth was gathered at Boston, in Septem- 
ber, 1779, to draw a new charter for the old colony. 
Here were assembled all the distinguished men of the 
State. The old leaders to whose lot it had fallen to 
pull down, the young whose destiny was to build up, 
met under the same roof. The old spirit of revolution 
and independence, and the younger spirit of order, 



234 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

wliicli plucked siffety and good government from the 
convulsions of civil war, united to give a Constitution 
to the Puritan state. Although a young man, Mr. 
Strong received the high compliment of being chosen 
one of the f ovir members at large on the committee ap- 
pointed to draft the Constitution. Mr. Strong obtained 
two hundred and three out of two hundred and thirty- 
seven votes, only six less than the number given to the 
great popular leader, Samuel Adams. Besides being 
a member of this committee, to whom the principal 
labor of the convention was intrusted, Mr. Strong- 
served on several sub-committees for the consideration 
of particular articles. That his services in the con- 
vention were acceptable, and added greatly to his rep- 
utation, is shown by the many offices which were now 
thrown open to him. In 1780 he was a member of 
the council of Massachusetts which, until the new 
Constitution went into operation, wielded the whole 
executive power of the State, and in the same year he 
declined an election as delegate to the Continental 
Congress, and accepted the office of state senator, 
which he held until 1789. In 1783 he declined an ap- 
pointment to the Supreme Bench, as his fortune was 
too narrow to permit of such a loss of professional 
income as an acceptance of this office would have 
entailed. In 1787 he was chosen to the responsible 
office of delegate to the national convention at Phil- 
adelphia, and was associated by Massachusetts with 
Rufus King, Elbridge Gerry, and Nathaniel Gorham 
in the great work of founding a national government. 



CALEB STRONG. 235 

Mr. Strong took his seat in the convention on May 
28, and shared in the labors and debates of the con- 
vention until August, when he was called home by ill- 
ness in his family. He appears to have been deeply 
impressed, as all thoughtful men then were, by the 
absolute necessity of a stronger central government, 
and a more perfect union of the States. There is no 
trace of sectional feeling or of state's rights in his 
course at this trying time, but he carried with him into 
the convention the doctrines of government in which 
he had been nurtured, and the democratic principles 
of the Constitution found in him a consistent advocate. 
He supported the traditional New England system of 
annual elections of representatives, and opposed the 
distinction of rank between the House and Senate, 
which had beei^ urged by Gouverneur Morris as of 
the last necessity. He also thought it best that the 
two Houses should stand upon an equal footing in 
their mode of election and in the popular esteem. 
Mr. Strong showed his liberal and conciliatory dis- 
position, as well as his ardent desire for union, even 
at some sacrifice of power, by sustaining the com- 
promise which gave to the States the right of repre- 
sentation as such in the Senate. Although a repre- 
sentative of a large State, he was ready to make 
concessions to the smaller ones. 

" It is agreed," he said, " on all hands that Congress 
is nearly at an end. If no accommodation takes place, 
the Union itself must soon be dissolved. It has been 
suggested that, if we cannot come to any general 



236 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

agreement, the principal States may form and recom- 
mend a scheme of government. But will the small 
States, in that case, ever accede to it ? Is it probable 
the large States themselves will, under such circum- 
tances, embrace and ratify it ? I think the small 
States have made a considerable concession in the 
article of money bills, and that they might naturally 
expect some concessions on the other side." ^ 

With sound common and legal sense, Mr. Strong 
opposed the Virginia plan of making the judges mem- 
bers of a council to revise the laws. He saw clearly 
the importance of separating entirely the great depart- 
ments of government, and was especially averse to any 
scheme which allowed the expounders of the laws to 
take part in making them. He also opposed the plan 
of the electoral college, and favored a choice of pres- 
ident by the legislature, as the simplest method at- 
tainable. With true New England thrift, he argued 
in favor of low salaries ; and, mindful of Massachu- 
setts history, introduced an amendment, afterward 
embodied in the Constitution, by which the Senate 
was deprived of the power of originating money bills. 
Soon after this, he was called away from Philadelphia, 
and thus lost the opportunity of affixing his name to 
the Constitution. But, although deprived of this 
honor, he was able to render yeoman's service to the 
cause of a more perfect union by defending and ex- 
plaining the Constitution in the Massachusetts ratify- 
ing convention, to which he was presently chosen. 
1 Madison Papers, p. 1101. 



CALEB STRONG. 237 

The submission of the Constitution to the people of 
the various States called national parties into exist- 
ence. In all the States they sprang up and struggled 
fiercely over the great issue so suddenly presented. 
The contest in Massachusetts was peculiarly bitter, 
and for a long time the result was doubtful. Local 
causes contributed to swell the ranks of the opposi- 
tion; but the Federalists, although outnumbered at 
the start, never faltered, and by weight of ability, by 
some adroit management, and by a good deal of work 
outside of the convention, were finally successful by a 
narrow majority. In the party which rallied about the 
Constitution in Massachusetts, in 1788, Caleb Strong 
held a prominent place. Not only from his devotion 
to the cause of establishing a national government, but 
from his legal and political reputation, and, above all, 
from liis having been one of the framers of the Consti- 
tution, he was looked up to and acknowledged as a 
leader. Mr. Strong spoke frequently in debate, and 
with especial force on the clause giving power to Con- 
gress to regulate elections. The limits of this sketch 
forbid any extracts from his speeches, which are all 
marked by clearness and force. They are simple and 
admirable expositions of the various questions of gov- 
ernment, expressed, as he himself said of the Consti- 
tution, "in the plain common language of mankind." 
The moderate temper and good sense of the speaker 
are everywhere apparent, and his power of conciliation 
and quiet knowledge of character are shown at their 
best when he addresses John Hancock. Like most of 



238 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

his party, he makes full use of the foibles of that emi- 
nent individual, and gracefully assures his Excellency 
that the latter's amendments would sooth jarring fac- 
tions, and no doubt be adopted by the new govern- 
ment, if recommended by the convention. 

The labors of the Federalists met with their reward. 
The Constitution was adopted, a national government 
was established, and a new era began. But only the 
first step had been taken. It was necessary to con- 
vert the parchment scheme into a living, active organ- 
ism. The Federalists, therefore, made every exertion 
to commit the great experiment to tried and friendly 
hands, and their efforts, in New England especially, 
were covered with success. For her first senators, 
Massachusetts selected Caleb Strong and Tristram 
Dalton. " Our senators," wrote General Lincoln to 
Washington, who was anxiously watching the result 
of the elections, " our senators are Federal indeed." ^ 
Mr. Strong, unlike most of his colleagues, was in his 
seat on March 4, 1789, and, in drawing lots, obtained 
the second class, which entitled him to a term of four 
years. At the expiration of that period he was re- 
elected, but resigned three years later. Mr. Strong 
was an active and useful member of the Senate. He 
appears to have been recognized as one of the leading 
lawyers in that body, and most of the committees on 
which he served were those whose duties would now 
be assigned to the Judiciary Committee. His most 
important service was on the committee which drafted 
^ Writings of Washington, vol. ix. p. 468. 



CALEB STRONG. 239 

the famous act to establish the judiciary, which passed 
at the first session, ^nd which has had an importance 
and an effect equal to almost any measure ever enacted 
by Congress. Many of his subsequent labors were con- 
nected with subsidiary questions growing out of this 
first act, such as i-egulating processes, paying the ju- 
diciary, and the like. He was also chairman of the 
committee on patents; and, in 1790, served on the one 
a^jpointed to determine a rule for naturalization. But^ 
besides the more purely legal committees, he held a 
conspicuous place on those formed for other equally 
important purposes. In May, 1790, he was chairman 
of the committee on foreign intercourse ; and, in the 
debate on this question in the following year, while he 
favored the prompt determination of the question of 
permanent establishments abroad, he expressed strong 
doubts as to their necessity or expediency. He also 
served upon the consular and post-office committees, 
and on one for pensions. That he displayed some tal- 
ent for finance is shown by the appearance of his name 
on some of the finance committees, and by the fact 
that, in 1791, he was selected to report to the Senate 
Hamilton's plan for a national bank. Throughout his 
senatorial career, Mr. Strong was constant in his at- 
tendance and in his devotion to his duties. It is 
hardly necessary to say that he acted always with the 
Federalists, and was one of the most consistent and 
unchanging members of that party. He sympathized 
profoundly with the distrust of France which gradu- 
ally became a leading article in the Federalist creed ; 



240 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

and, as early as June, 1792, we find his name among 
the small minority who voted for the modified resolu- 
tion acknowledging the reception of the French Con- 
stitution. Again, in 1795, he strongly supported the 
motion of his colleague, Mr. Cabot, to strike out the 
the words " magnanimous nation " from the resolution 
accepting the French flag. Mr. Strong shared fully 
in the disgust excited at that time by the French pol- 
icy ; and, if he could have had his way, would have 
separated the reception of the flag from that accorded 
to the letter of the French government. He, of course, 
advocated the ratification of the Jay treaty, and ear- 
nestly supported the policy of Washington, so bit- 
terly denounced at this critical time. Although the 
people expected a better treaty, he thought that, like 
himself, they were convinced that the best had been 
done, and that it was our duty to abide by it.^ 

Soon after the exciting struggle of the following 
session, produced by the resistance in the House to the 
appropriations for the English treaty, Mr. Strong, 
wearied of public life, and abundantly satisfied with his 
share of it, resigned the senatorship, and returned to 
the practice of his profession. During the stormy 
years of the last Federalist administration, Mr. Strong 
remained in private life. He, of course, warmly sup- 
ported the government against the aggressions and 
insults of France, and, in 1797, he writes to his friend, 
Colonel Pickering,^ to congratulate him heartily upon 

1 Strong to Pickering, August 22, 1795. Pickering MSS. 

2 February 6, 1797. Pickering MSS. 



CALEB STRONG. 241 

his vigorous reply to M. Adet. The clamor o£ the 
French Minister Mr. Strong regarded as merely noisy 
misrepresentation ; but, as his letters were artfully 
drawn, and as the people do not stop to analyze such 
statements, he thought it was always well to have 
them unsparingly refuted. This letter shows a firm 
and settled opposition to France, but is free from the 
unreasoning rancor only too common at that time 
among extreme Federalists. In the unhappy struggles 
with the President, which finally ruined his party, Mr. 
Strong does not appear to have taken any part, al- 
though his sympathies were probably with the oppo- 
nents of Mr. Adams. 

Mr. Strong, on resigning his seat in the Senate, un- 
doubtedly wished and believed his retirement from 
public life to be final, but so efficient and available 
a man could not long remain out of office. In 1800 
he was brought forward by the Federalists as their 
candidate for governor. He easily defeated his com- 
petitor, Mr. Gerry, and in Northampton and the six 
or seven neighboring towTis there were no votes cast 
against him. A stronger proof of the respect in 
which his character was held, of his amiability and 
universal popularity, it would be impossible to offer. 
Another incident subsequent to this same election, and 
growing out of it, reveals the secret of Mr. Strong's 
success in winning the affection of his fellow-men. 
When the new governor was inaugurated, the proces- 
sion usual on such occasions happened to march 
through Winter Street in Boston, and, as it passed, 

16 



242 STUDIES TN HISTORY. 

the venerable Samviel Adams was seen standing at liis 
door. Mr. Strong immediately stopped the procession, 
descended from his carriage, uncovered his head, and 
advanced to shake hands with the old patriot of the 
Revolution.^ It was a gracefid act, gracefully per- 
formed, and shows clearly the gentle temjjer which 
made Mr. Strong's long official life so free from any- 
thing like personal bitterness. But, in order to thor- 
oughly appreciate this little scene, it must be remem- 
bered that Mr. Adams was the opi)osition leader, and 
that party spirit then ran very high. A like modera- 
tion was exhibited by Mr. Strong in his annual ad- 
dress, in 1801, at a time when leading Federalists, in 
public and private, from the pulpit and from the 
bench, were denouncing the accession of Jefferson as 
the victory of the worst princijjles of the French Rev- 
olution, and, as if it were the advent of a Marat or a 
Robespierre, fatal alike to religion and society. " You 
will reflect," said Mr. Strong on this occasion, " that 
in republics the majority must prevail, and that obe- 
dience to the laws and respect for the constitutional 
authorities are essential to the character of a good cit- 
izen." The words and the thought are alike simple 
and even commonplace, but they were rarely heard 
from the lips of party leaders in 1801. To this wise 
and conciliatory spirit, to his great personal popular- 
ity, and to his steady refusal to exercise his power for 
party purposes, Mr. Strong owed his long tenure of 
office.^ This portion of his public life was quiet and 

^ Life of Samuel Adams, vol. iii. p. 369. 

^ George Cabot to Pickering. Life of Cabot, p. 343. 



CALEB STRONG. *243 

uneventful, for at this time there were no issues of 
importance affecting the State. The governor strove 
hard to get some just debts paid by the general gov- 
ernment to Massachusetts, but they were Federalist 
debts, and met with small favor at the hands of a 
Democratic Congress. Dvmng these years Mr. Strong- 
wrote frequently to Colonel Pickering, then senator 
from Massachusetts, but his letters are curiously de- 
void of politics. He tells his restless correspondent of 
the weather and the crops, and of the risings and sit- 
tings of the legislature and of their actions, but he 
leaves national questions alone ; and there is no evi- 
dence that he had any knowledge of the Federalist 
plot to dissolve the Union, which was concocted in 
Washington in 1804. In a letter written in 1806 he 
gives an interesting picture of the state of parties at 
that time, and he expresses feelings which show that 
the now prevalent criticism of legislative bodies is of 
old date, and was even then familiar to one who had 
had a large experience of them. Mr. Strong says : — 

" Few important laws of a public nature have been 
passed ; but, if they have done but little good, I think 
they have not done any great mischief, and this in a 
legislative body seems to be a character of considerable 
merit. In general, the two Houses have been imcom- 
monly tranquil and good-humored, and I am told that 
but little of party spirit has appeared in either of 
them." 

The good humor and the tranquillity mentioned by 
the governor were signs of the decay of the two old 



244 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

parties, and indicated tlie rapid process of absorption 
by which the Federalist power was being destroyed, 
even in its strongholds. Nothing but Mr. Strong's 
popularity retained the state government for the Fed- 
eralists after 1804, when Massachusetts chose Jeffer- 
sonian electors. In 1807, this, too, proved imavailing, 
and Mr. Strong, after seven years of service, was de- 
feated by Mr. Sullivan. Mr. Strong gladly retired to 
private life, convinced for the second time that his 
public career was at an end, but the wretched for- 
eign policy of Mr. Jefferson soon changed the face of 
affairs, and, by means of the embargo, gave a new 
lease of life to the expiring Federalist party. As 
hope revived, they turned to their old leader as their 
best candidate, but Mr. Strong declined to stand, and 
his determination could not be shaken. He felt that 
he had done his part, and that his refusal was fully 
justified. He writes to Colonel Pickering that his 
withdrawal can have no effect upon the result of the 
election, and that in the Northampton region, where 
he commanded the greatest strength, there would be 
no loss, as the county was thoroughly Federalist.^ In 
this same letter he gives his views on the exciting po- 
litical issues of the day, and notes with interest the 
reaction produced by the measures of the administra- 
tion. "An opinion is gaining ground," he writes, 
"that the conduct of government is evidently influ- 
enced by partiality in favor of the French, and by fear 
of offending them," and that they are, therefore, deter- 
1 Strong to Pickering, August 6, 1808. Pickei'ing MSS. 



CALEB STRONG. 245 

mined on a breach with Great Britain. In regard to 
Pickering's well-known letter to Sullivan, he says 
that if the governor had published the letter, it would 
have had no great effect, as Pickering's opinions were 
well known, and it " would have been considered an 
evidence of the governor's faithfulness and imj^ar- 
tiality ; but his sending the letter back, loithout read- 
ing it, and publishing his answer in the ' Chronicle,' 
have had no tendency to increase the number of his 
friends." One may be sure that the writer of this 
criticism would never have made such a capital mis- 
take, had he been placed in a like position. The 
whole letter shows Mr. Strong's steady and firm ad- 
herence to Federalist opinions and principles, and is 
characterized also by the quiet good sense with which 
he regarded every public or private event. 

The years glided by, and once more Mr. Strong 
was forced by a sense of duty to abandon his retire- 
ment, and enter upon a new tei-m of official labors and 
upon the most trying experience of his long and 
varied public career. In the spring of 1812 war was 
near, and the government of Massachusetts was in 
Democratic hands. But the approach of war with 
Great Britain roused the deeply - rooted dislike of 
New Englaiid to such a policy and to its authors. The 
Federalists again saw victory within their grasp, but 
they fully appreciated the dangers which menaced 
them. They needed a leader who was unexception- 
able both in character and antecedents, whose per- 
sonal popidarity was considerable and whose firmness, 



246 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

calmness of temper, and moderation both in word and 
deed should satisfy the extreme members of the party, 
without alarming and driving away the more timid 
brethren. There was one man, and only one, who 
fulfilled all these requirements. Everybody turned to 
Mr. Strong as the proper candidate, and he felt that 
he could not now, as in 1808, refuse. He accejjted 
the nomination, and was elected. The Democrats, 
then the party in possession, with all the offices in 
their hands, with the State most carefidly and most 
infamously " gerrymandered," were swept from power, 
and Mr. Strong triumphed again over his old adver- 
sary, Mr. Gerry. The Democrats, during their brief 
tenure of government, had introduced a thorough 
system of political j^roscription in the matter of the 
state offices, and the aged Gerry had been urged on 
in this novel business by his great leader, Thomas 
Jefferson. The problem of remedying this injustice, 
and of restoring the old system of permanent tenures, 
was presented to Mr. Strong as soon as he entered 
upon his office. The following letter shows the man- 
ner in which he dealt with the difficulty : — 

Boston, June 20th, 1812. 
My deae Lewis, — ... The sheriff, clerks, and 
others who were ejected last year for their opinions, 
and who wished to be restored, have been reinstated 
in their offices. In one instance, a sheriff who had 
been removed had died ; and in two instances of re- 
moval, the former incumbent was otherwise provided 
for, so as not to desire a restoration. In those cases, 



CALEB STRONG. 247 

the present incumbent has not been disturbed. We 
contemplate no other removals, unless sufficient cause 
is shown and proved, and the party accused is heard 
in his defense. Caleb Strong. 

The wisdom and moderation of Mr. Strong's course 
shines out brightly against the dark background of 
his predecessor's blunders. 

This matter of the offices, however, was the very 
least of the difficulties with which Governor Strong 
had to cope. War was declared June 18, 1812. Six 
days before, Governor Strong had received a request 
from the Secretary of War to order into the national 
service a portion of the militia, to be under the com- 
mand of Major-General Dearborn. On the 22d of 
June, the day before the news of the declaration of 
war was received in Boston, General Dearborn made 
a formal requisition for these troops, to be stationed 
under his command at different points along the 
coast. Governor Strong's position was a trying one. 
The opposition to the war was very general. There 
was a violent war pai'ty, who wished all the resources 
of the State to be placed at the disposal of the na- 
tional government ; there was a peace party, composed 
of members of both parties, determined to put every 
obstacle in the way of the administration ; while the 
Federalists generally regarded the declaration of war 
as an act of tyranny, and the measures of the dom- 
inant party as an infringement of state's rights. An- 
other and a very grave difficulty of a practical nature 



248 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

arose from the extreme reluctance of the militia to 
serve, and from their hatred, amounting almost to in- 
subordination, to being placed under the authority of 
United States officers.^ General Dearborn's requisi- 
tion raised two questions of the deepest importance. 
The Constitution says that " Congress shall have 
power to provide for calling forth the militia to exe- 
cute the laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and 
repel invasions," and " to provide for organizing, arm- 
ing, and disciplining the militia, and for governing 
such part of them as may be employed in the service 
of the United States, reserving to the States respect- 
ively the appointment of the officers." The first ques- 
tion was who was to judge whether one of the three 
exigencies in which Congress had power to call out the 
militia had arisen ; the second, was whether the militia 
could, according to the Constitution, be placed under 
the command of a United States officer. After mature 
consideration, and from sincere conviction, Mr. Strong, 
taking advanced ground in favor of state's rights, de- 
cided that he, as governor of the State, was the proper 
person to determine whether the constitutional exi- 
gency had arisen, and he was also of opinion that the 
militia must be commanded by their own officers. He 
made no rej)ly, therefore, to General Dearborn's req- 
uisition, but referred the matter to the Council, who 

1 See Sumner's History of East Boston, p. 379, and manuscript 
letter from Governor Strong to the Commissioners of Massachu- 
setts appointed in accordance with the resolves of the Hartford 
convention, January 31, 1815. 



CALEB STRONG. 249 

reported that tlie exigency required by the Constitu- 
tion had not arisen, and advised a submission of the 
constitutional points to the Supreme Court. This was 
immediately done, and Chief Justice Parsons, Judge 
Parker, and Judge Sewall returned an opinion which 
fully sustained the views of the governoro On the 
26th of June General Dearborn made a second req- 
uisition, to which Mr. Strong replied, declining to 
furnish the troops ; and, a few days later, he refused 
to comply with a request from the Secretary of War, 
urging him to give troops to General Dearborn. But, 
although he was so jealous of what he considered his 
constitutional rights, Governor Strong was resolved to 
insure the complete protection of the State. On the 
3d of July he issued a general order, requiring tho 
militia to hold themselves in readiness to march at a 
moment's notice to any threatened point. Not only 
did he mean to defend the State, but also to comply 
with every demand of the national government which 
he considered constitutional. This is shown by his 
detaching militia, and placing them under the com- 
mand of General Dearborn, on the 5th of August, to 
march to the defense of the eastern portion of the 
State. In doing this, he felt that he went to the ut- 
most limit of his constitutional obligations, and it 
proves that he did not seek to thwart the national gov- 
ernment from sheer partisanship. The follov/ing let- 
ter to his son explains his course at this time : — 

Boston, August 15th, 1812. 
My dear Lewis, — I received your letter of the 



250 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

13th instant yesterday. In my general order I find 
there was nothing said of the President's command ; 
but in the instructions given to General Sewall, and 
which, of course, would be communicated to the com- 
mander of the militia that are called out, he is di- 
x'ccted to have two companies stationed at Eastport, 
and one at Eobbinston, until the President shall other- 
wise direct, — and in my letter to the Secretary of 
War I informed him that such directions had been 
given, — so that they are to be under the command of 
the President, as was stated would be the case, when- 
ever the militia should march to repel an invasion, in 
the General Order of July 3d. There was some diffi- 
culty in bringing the case within the exigencies men- 
tioned in the Constitution, but I stated that that part 
of the State was in a peculiar manner in danger of in- 
vasion, which was saying as much as I could with 
truth. 

You inquire whether the opinion of the Supreme 
Court is to be published. I don't know that I shall 
have any fit opportunity of doing it until the legisla- 
ture meet in October. Perhaps then it will be proper 
to lay the whole matter before them, as well the opin- 
ion as my correspondence on the subject of calling out 
the militia ; but this may dej)end on the events that 
may take place between this time and that. 

In his message to the legislature, Mr. Strong- 
said : — 

" If this State was in danger, the regular troops 



CALEB STRONG. 251 

would not have been ordered away to the northwest 
frontiers ; and, if they were so ordered, the militia 
were not liable to be called into service, and stationed 
in the forts of the United States to do duty, when no 
danger of invasion appeared. I have been fully dis- 
posed to comply with the requirements of the Consti- 
tution of the United States, and the laws made in 
pursuance thereof, and I sincerely regret that a re- 
quest should have been made by an officer of the 
national government with which I could not constitu- 
tionally comply. But it appeared to me that this 
requisition was of that character, and I was under the 
same obligation to maintain the rights of the State as 
to support the Constitution of the United States." ^ 

This sentence sums up the whole policy of the gov- 
ernor during the trying years which followed. If Mr. 
Strong's political principles be considered, as well as 
the state of the times and the party to which he be- 
longed, his course appears both temperate and just, 
however much we may be disposed to differ from his 
interpretation of the Constitution. Had he complied 
with the requisitions of General Dearborn, and ac- 
cepted the Democratic theory of the Constitution at 
that time, he would have been, if not more than man, 
something considerably less than a Federalist. As to 
his views of the two constitutional questions which he 
was called upon to decide, whatever may be thought 

^ See also Governor Strong's Message, iu Massachusetts Re- 
solves for May 28, 1813, where he reviews his course since the 
beginning of the war. 



252 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

of their merits, it must not be forgotten that these 
points had not then been judicially determined. The 
governor of Massachusetts was as competent as the 
President to decide a doubtful constitutional point. 
In doing so, moreover, he was supported by the ma- 
jority of the people in Massachusetts, by his constitu- 
tional advisers, and by the opinion of his Supreme 
Court. The legality and caution of his action cannot 
be questioned. If we cannot acquit three learned law- 
yers, members of the highest tribunal of the State, of 
undue partisanship in taking so extraordinary a view 
of the Constitution as they did upon the first point 
referred to them, we must, at least, admit that the 
governor was legally, if not politically, justified in the 
course which he adopted. 

Mr. Adams, in his diary,^ says that Governor 
Brooks, the Adjutant General of Massachusetts in 
1812, told him that Governor Strong was completely 
under the influence of Chief Justice Parsons. The 
governor almost quarreled, Mr. Brooks said, with 
him on this account ; and he added that it was he 
who finally forced the governor to issue the general 
order calling out the militia. Mr. Adams professes 
himself puzzled by this statement, as well he might be, 
for Governor Strong's course was a purely independ- 
ent one, and his ordering out the militia came near 
causing a serious breach with the Chief Justice.^ Yet 

^ Diary of John Quincy Adams, vol. iv. p. 423. 

2 A full account of Mr. Strong's interview with Judge Parsons 
on this point may be found in Sumner's History of East Boston, 
p. 738. 



CALEB STRONG. 253 

he adhered constantly to his determination to retain 
the militia under his own control, until in his judgment 
an exigency should arise warranting his ordering them 
into the service of the United States. 

Throughout the war, Governor Strong steadily pur- 
sued this policy. When, in the spring of 1814, the 
British swooped down upon the coast left undefended 
by the national government, and the alarm of war 
spread along the shores of New England, Governor 
Strong put himself at the head of the vigorous move- 
ments made by the people to repel the enemy. The 
militia was called out, volunteers came forward to 
offer their services, and substantial fortifications were 
raised for the protection of Boston. Mr. Strong 
gives, in the following letter, a brief account of the 
situation : — 

Boston, Sunday Evening, Sept. ^tli, 1814. 

My dear Lew^s, — ... You will also see in the 
newspapers that the British have taken possession of 
Castine and Belfast with a considerable land force, 
but we have no particulars, and I have no official ac- 
count of the proceedings there. The people in this 
town are in as great agitation, I think, as at any time 
in the Revolutionary War ; and, while this state of 
things continues, I must remain here, however little 
good I may be able to do them, though if I can help 
to make them cool and collected, I shall think myseK 
not wholly useless.^ Caleb Strong. 

1 See also Sumner's History of East Boston, 401-420, for a de- 
tailed account of the defensive measures taken at this time. 



254 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

The danger of foreign invasion, the irritation pro- 
duced by the war, and the weak yet aggravating policy 
of tlie national government produced in the autumn 
of 1814 the agitation and excitement which resulted 
in the Plartford convention. 

This measure had the sympathy and approval of the 
governor, who, from his situation, was even more 
deeply impressed than others by the dangers which 
menaced both state and country, and who felt the 
necessity of forcing a peace at all hazards. He 
thought, moreover, that we had no right, considering 
our ill success in the war, to exjaect good terms from 
England, and he writes to Pickering that he can see 
no reason for indignation at the fii'st terms offered by 
England at Ghent.^ "If Great Britain," he says, 
" had discovered a haughty or grasping spirit, it might 
naturally have excited irritation, but I am persuaded 
that in the present case there is not a member of Con- 
gress who, if he was a member of Parliament, would 
have thought that more moderate terms ought in the 
first instance to have been offered." This was a sen- 
timent which, at that juncture, was likely to prove 
more true than palatable. Mr. Strong also remarks 
that pride, the enemy of peace and justice, had caused 
the war and might prevent peace ; and that, if Mr. 
Gore and Mr. King had been commissioners, they 
would, without difficulty, have made a fair treaty. 
On the following day he writes that he finds the Es- 
sex people expect to lose the fisheries, but are ready 

1 Strong to Pickering, October 17, 1814. Pickering MSS. 



CALEB STRONG. 255 

to give up a portion of Maine to retain them, whicli 
shows clearly that peace was the event most desired 
by the Federalists. In December ^ he wrote that the 
arguments of the American Commissioners displayed 
ability, but lacked candor and frankness, and he 
wished that " they had not so much encouraged the 
language, which is already too frequent, that, if we 
agree to any terms which are not perfectly agreeable, 
we shall give up our independence." His views as 
to the condition and future of the West were those 
held by many of the Federalists, and are not without 
interest. He wrote to Colonel Pickering in February, 
1815,^ that the news made it evident that New Or- 
leans would not. be taken, and that its capture would 
have hastened the separation of the Western from the 
Atlantic States. 

" However," he adds, " it is hardly to be supposed 
that the Western States will long continue connected 
with us. They will soon possess all the requisites for 
their complete security, and will naturally prefer a 
government of their own and among themselves to 
one at a great distance. The territory of the United 
States is so extensive as to forbid us to indulge the 
expectation that we shall remain many years united. 
But whenever a separation shall take place, I hope it 
will be effected, not only without contention, but with 
perfect good-will, ^^e may be happy as neighbors, 
where a union would be inconvenient." 

^ Strong to Pickering, December 15, 1814. Pickering MSS. 
2 Strong to Pickering, February 7, 1815. Pickering MSS. 



256 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

As may be supposed, Governor Strong was one of 
those who rejoiced most sincerely at the return of 
peace. He longed for definite news of the conclusion 
of the treaty in season for him to decline to stand 
again as candidate ; for, while the war lasted, he felt 
obliged to remain in office.^ The treaty did not arrive 
in time to release him ; he was reelected once more, and 
held the office until 1816, when he took his final leave 
of public life. 

At last the peace and retirement which Mr. Strong 
so much desired, and which he so well deserved, had 
come to him, but they were destined to be rudely 
broken and to be of short duration. In 1817, his wife, 
a woman of most attractive character, the daughter of 
the Rev. John Hooker, the successor of Edwards, to 
whom he had been married in 1777, and whom he 
tenderly loved, died after a lingering illness. Mr. 
Strong did not long survive this severe blow, although 
he bore it with patient resignation. On November 7, 
1818, he died at his house in Northampton, painlessly 
and almost instantaneously, from an attack of angina 
pectoris. 

Mr. Strong's long and varied public services have 
left but little space to speak of his personal appearance 
and private character. He was tall and of moderate 
fullness of person.^ He had a rather long, oval face, 
which in Stuart's portrait has a gentle and j)leasant 
yet firm expression. His manners were kindly and 

1 MS. letter, Caleb Strong to Lewis Strong. 
^ Sullivan's Familiar Letters, p. 369. 



CALEB STRONG. 257 

agreeable, but marked rather by the simplicity of one 
bred in the country than by the polish of a man who 
had mixed much with the world. In his dome'stic re- 
lations and in private life Mr. Strong was both loved 
and respected. A long series of letters addressed to 
his son Lewis, when the latter was at school and col- 
lege, give a most interesting picture of the writer's 
mind and character. They are marked by strong good 
sense, are both wise and kindly, and occasionally ex- 
hibit a spirit of sober and gentle satire, evincing al- 
ways a more than common penetration and a cool 
judgment of human character and feelings. This 
parental advice is tinged with a Puritan sombreness 
of thought, and the traditional New'Engiand suspicion 
of everything pertaining to the pleasant side of life 
crops out here and there in a manner which seems 
strange enough at the present day. A few extracts 
from these letters will not be out of place, as they shed 
much light on the character of the wi-iter, while at the 
same time they illustrate modes of thought and habits 
of life now utterly extinct. 

Northampton, Sept. 9, '99. 
My dear Lewis, — ... You have entered upon 
a new scene, and are at a distance from those to whom 
your interest and happiness are most dear, but I hope 
you will always be solicitous to preserve your innoceiice 
and virtue, and to acquire improvement and a good 
reputation. Your future success in life depends very 
much upon the manner in which you employ the time 
at college. Indeed, this may be called the spring and 

17 



258 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

seed time of your life, and your future harvest will be 
in proportion to your industry at this period. We are 
told that the sluggard who does not plow shall be at 
the harvest and have nothing. If you waste your time 
in playing cards, or other idle and disgraceful amuse- 
ments, or in lolling in your chair, you will have the 
character of a poor scholar, and be despised by every 
one ; but I hope better things of you, and flatter myself 
you have understanding enough to discover the value 
of a public education, and the importance of a close 
application to your studies. . . . 

I am your affectionate parent, 

Caleb Strong. 

The hext letter was written after the death of a lit- 
tle daughter. It shows the strong religious feelings 
of the writer, and displays also that curious mixture 
of tenderness and stoicism so frequently met with in 

the Puritan character. 

Northampton, Sept. 11, 1799. 

My dear Lewis, — ... You will readily suppose 
that we are all of us overwhelmed with grief at this 
event. Indeed, the manners of Phebe were so sj^rightly 
and engaging, and her tongue so mild and gentle, and 
her disposition so affectionate and benevolent, that all 
of her acquaintances were fond of her. She was pe- 
culiarly dear to every one of the family, and the neigh- 
bors who knew her were every day speaking in her 
commendation ; but, like a flower, she is cut down and 
withered. I hope her death will serve to convince us 
of the uncertainty of earthly enjoyments, and the ne- 



CALEB STRONG. 259 

cessity of securing the friendship of that Ahnighty 
Being who alone can support us when, like Phebe, we 
shall experience the agonies of death. 

I wish it might have happened so that you had been 
here, that we might have shared together our sorrow ; 
but we must acquiesce in all the dispensations of heav- 
en, and I pray God that you and all of us may derive 
lasting benefit from this distressing bereavement. 

I am your affectionate parent, 

Caleb Strong. 

Northampton, Nov. lUh, 1799. 
My dear Lewis, — ... I write only for the pur- 
pose of giving you information of our welfare, and of 
reminding you that it is of great importance to you to 
be diligent in your studies, and that you avoid every 
evil consequence. I heard of your being at the play 
soon after you arrived at Cambridge. It will not be 
advantageous to you to attend those amusements often. 
It would endanger your health, after spending three 
or four hours in such a warm place as a playhouse, to 
walk in the cold air as far as Cambridge ; and, be- 
sides, going frequently to such places of amusement 
would divert you too much from the business you are 
to pursue at college. I hope that you will conduct 
with prudence in all respects, and that you will acquire 
the character of a good scholar and a person of engag- 
ing and amiable manners. 

Boston, March 5, 1803. 
My dear Lewis, — ... The dress of a scholar 



260 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

near the close of his term at college should be a little 
more elegant than is necessary at an earlier period. 
He must then have somewhat the appearance of a 
gentleman. When you was here, I thought your 
dress was hardly elegant enough. The coats that are 
cut straight down before may perhaps be called buck- 
ish, but, so far as I have observed, they are not worn 
by genteel people. If you want new clothes, you must 
go to Callender's for them, and get those that are good 
and durable, and take care to have them made large. 
If you want a new hat, you must get one. . . . 
I am, my dear Lewis, your affectionate parent, 

Caleb Strong. 

Mr. Strong's character is not a difficult one to ana- 
lyze, and in its simplicity may be foimd tlie cause of 
much of the success which always attended its posses- 
sor. Mr. Strong was not a man of brilliant intellect- 
ual powers, but he supplemented good natural tal- 
ents by steady application, cool judgment, and the 
exercise on all occasions of most excellent common 
sense. He was unswerving in his adherence to all his 
principles ; but, though he was a leader in a very dog- 
matic party, he always expressed himself temperately, 
and in a fashion which gave offense to no man. This 
moderation of temper was conspicuous in every act of 
his public life. Although he frequently held extreme 
views, he never pushed them in practice to a danger- 
ous distance. His temperance in word, thought, and 
action, combined with high character and great amia- 



CALEB STRONG. 261 

billty, was the secret of liis personal popularity, whicli 
enabled him to retain high office at periods when, it 
may be safely said, not one of his party friends could 
have commanded an election. It is a curious fact that, 
in all the letters of the time. Governor Strong is never 
mentioned either with praise or blame, if we except 
an occasional general expression of respect and confi- 
dence. Of course, his conduct as a public man was 
criticised in newspapers and pamphlets, but rarely 
with personality. This was most remarkable in an 
age when savage party warfare gave birth to the bit- 
terest and most abusive attacks upon private character 
as well as public actions. Such a complete absence of 
comment in contemporary writings seems strangely in- 
consistent with the fact that for nearly half a century 
Mr. Strong held high places, and was often called 
upon, especially during his last term, as the Executive 
of the State, to resolve momentous questions. Such 
questions, too, he never shunned, but decided them 
with firmness, and adliered unflinchingly to his convic- 
tions of duty and to the line of action which he had 
marked out, so that this silence on the part of both 
friends and foes cannot be explained merely by his 
moderate temper or amiable disposition. It shows con- 
clusively that he did not possess those salient qualities 
of mind and heart which must awaken either enthu- 
siastic attachment or deep dislike, and cannot admit 
indifference. A man of this sober character and even 
disposition does not deeply impress those about him, 
nor leave his peculiar personal mark upon history, 



262 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

even though his actions were at the time of great mo- 
ment, and became afterwards of the highest historical 
interest. But, on the other hand, such a man, even 
if he be an aristocrat in principle, secures the great 
prizes of elective offices in a democracy, and obtains 
the greatest measure of practical success, from his 
capacity for dealing with his fellow-men and winning 
their love and respect, without ever offending their 
prejudices. Popular and beloved, respected by all, 
conscientious and painstaking in the discharge of 
every duty, of a firm and quiet patriotism, Mr. Strong 
has left an honored and historic name. This brief 
sketch cannot close more appropriately than with the 
words used by Dr. Lyman when he preached Mr. 
Strong's funeral sermon : " You will unite your voice 
with mine when I say that few, very few men have 
sustained public honors more peacefully, and been 
more eminently usefid, through a long life, in times 
that tried men's souls." 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 



Prior to the year 1860, four men, and only four, 
had acquired great reputations as secretaries of the 
treasury, and not one of these four was a native of 
the country whose finances he administered. Robert 
Morris was an Englishman ; Alexander Hamilton, 
born in the West Indies, was half Scotch and half 
French ; Albert Gallatin was a Swiss ; and Alexander 
Dallas, a Scotchman. The first and the last owe their 
fame to the circumstances in which they were placed 
as much as to their own talents. Both Morris and 
Dallas were ministers of finance when the country was 
plunged in war and bankruptcy, and it was more by 
their patriotism, boldness, energy, and resource in des- 
perate times than by purely financial ability that they 
gained deserved reputation and conspicuous places in 
our history. Hamilton and Gallatin, on the other 
hand, were not only great financiers, but they achieved 
high distinction in other fields, played a leading part 
in the administrations with which they were connected, 
and each for twelve years exercised a controlling in- 
fluence upon his party, and made himself felt in every 
branch of national policy and in every department of 
the government. 



264 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Tlie Life of Hamilton has been written and rewrit- 
ten. Friends and foes have united to lay bare every 
word and every action of his caj'eer, and to subject the 
whole to the most minute criticism and discussion. 
He is now one of the best known as he is one of the 
greatest figures of American history. His was the 
suggesting if not the directing mind at the foundation 
of the government, and he has left an indelible im- 
press upon all our methods of administration. But 
Hamilton is fortunate in other ways. He stands forth 
before posterity as the embodiment of a great prin- 
ciple, as the representative of one of the two funda- 
mental theories which fought for dominion in the 
American system of government. 

With his great rival in the treasury the case has 
been widely different. It is no exaggeration to say 
that, before the appearance of Mr. Adams's volumes, 
Albert Gallatin was hardly more than a name to the 
present generation. Yet, with the exception of Ham- 
ilton, there has never been a member of any cabinet 
who as such did so much and exercised so much power 
as Albert Gallatin. To have his Life and Letters,^ 
the former well written and the latter carefully edited, 
is to obtain a great addition to ou.r historical literature. 
Mr. Adams has confined himself strictly to the career 
of his hero ; but the life of Gallatin from 1801 to 1815 
is the cabinet history of the administrations of Jeffer- 
son and Madison. This period is still but little known 

^ The Life of Albert Gallatin, by Henry Adams, vol. i. The 
Writings of Albert Gallatin, edited by Henry Adams, vols, ii., iii. 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 265 

except from the Federalist standpoint, and the history 
of an opposition is never very conclusive as to that 
of the government. There is no life of Mr. Mad- 
ison covering these years, and of all the many lives of 
Jefferson there is not one which approaches the suh- 
ject in a manner at once unprejudiced and thorough. 
Gallatin was the only other important member of 
their administrations, and his biography now throws a 
flood of lio'ht from the Democratic side over the his- 
tory of the United States during the first fifteen years 
of the century. 

Mr. Adams shows himself to be peculiarly fitted for 
his task. Patient investigation is everywhere appar- 
ent, and is supplemented by a firm historical grasp, 
and by vigor and originality of thought and opinion. 
The most conspicuous quality, however, is the author's 
marked impartiality. We do not agree with all Mr. 
Adams's conclusions, but no one can question the fair- 
ness of the process by which they have been reached. 
The cool, judicial tone of the book, free alike from 
excessive laudation or excessive censure, is very re- 
freshing to the reader of American biography, and 
renders both praise and blame, when they are meted 
out, very effective. 

It would be difficult to find a better subject polit- 
ically, but from the dramatic side it is not equally 
strong. Gallatin's career would seem to contradict 
this last assertion, but it is unquestionably correct, and 
the explanation is easily found in the character of the 
man. Gallatin was a gi-eat man and a strong charac- 



266 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

ter, but he was»neitlier picturesque nor dramatic, and 
is never amusing. This does not affect the importance 
of the biography as a contribution to history, but it is 
a misfortune to author, hero, and reader. It tends 
inevitably to make the narrative too uniformly sober, 
— a defect which Mr. Adams does not always over- 
come. 

Family pride led the Gallatins to boast a descent 
from A. Atilius Callatinus, the Roman consul (a. u. c. 
494 and 498). A gap of fifteen hundred years be- 
tween the consul and the first appearance of the name 
in European history tends to invalidate this rather 
splendid bit of genealogy, but there can be no doubt 
that the Gallatins were both an old and noble family. 
Their pedigree carries us back to the middle ages, 
whence it descends unbroken to Mr. Jefferson's secre- 
tary. They are first heard of in Savoy in the year 
1258, and more than two centuries later they came to 
Geneva (1510), united with Calvin in his opposition 
to Rome, and associated their fortunes with those of 
the famous Swiss city. Settlement in Geneva de- 
prived them of showy titles, but did not impair their 
purity of blood or high social position. For nearly 
two centuries they had the lion's share of the offices 
and the power in the little rejoublic of Calvin, and in 
every position they seem to have shown faithful indus- 
try as well as a large measure of all the civic virtues. 
But great as their share was, Geneva offered opportu- 
nities of advancement to but a small part of the Galla- 
tins, who were always more numerous than rich, ami 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 267 

so, with the national spirit of adventure, they sought 
their fortune in other lands and under foreign princes. 
A Gallatin shed his blood or gave his life in almost 
every important battle during the seventeenth and 
eighteenth centuries, and they also obtained renown in 
civil as well as in military employments. We find 
them at Geneva, in the middle of the eighteenth cen- 
tury, the same republican nobles that they had been 
for two hundred years. They then numbered among 
their friends such diverse persons as Voltaire and the 
Landgrave of Hesse, and letters from the literaiy 
potentate and the petty German prince adorn the 
opening pages of Mr. Adams's memoir. Sprung from 
such a family, an orphan at an early age, with the 
prospect of a fair patrimony and surrounded by stead- 
fast and influential friends, Albert Gallatin was one of 
the last men to whom emigration would seem to have 
been attractive or even possible. Yet before he had 
reached his twentieth birthday he went forth from the 
city of his ancestors, leaving behind him position, 
career, and fortune, in order to tempt fate in the New 
World. Despite his subsequent success, Gallatin 
always regarded this early abandonment of home as 
unwise, and late in life affirmed that he never advised 
but one man — his faithful friend BadoUet, who joined 
him in America — to emigrate. There is, indeed, no 
adequate explanation of this important step. It was 
probably due to a variety of immature motives and 
opinions, for Gallatin's home was happy, and his rela- 
tives, although disapproving of his departure, never 



268 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

treated him with anything but kindness. Love of ad- 
venture and political idealism imbibed from the writings 
of Rousseau are probably the most definite reasons 
which can now be assigned for his voluntary exile. But, 
however this may be, in 1780 he left his native city for 
the United States, and did not return to Europe until 
he came, full of honors, to conclude a peace between 
the country of his adoption and Great Britain. 

He carried with him to America a fair education, 
plenty of hope, and a little money, but his first experi- 
ences were enough to have disheartened any man who 
did not possess in a high degree courage, endurance, 
and fortitude. He first tried his fortune in New Eng- 
land, where all his attempts came to nothing. He failed 
in trade ; he passed an aimless and hard winter in the 
wilds of Maine ; and he strove to earn a living as a 
teacher of French in Harvard College. But the New 
England atmosphere was unfavorable to a poor and 
young adventurer, and especially to one of French 
origin. So Gallatin drifted away from the compact, 
rigid, and rather repellent civilization of New England 
into the backwoods of Pennsylvania and Virginia. In 
a wholly new country there seemed more chances for 
a new man ; and Gallatin engaged in land specula- 
tions, married, and was just beginning to think that 
life looked more promising, when his wife died after 
a few months of wedlock, and he was left with his 
misery in his rude and lonely home. He had already 
come forward in local politics, thanks to a train- 
ing and education rare enough in the backwoods of 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 269 

America, and the loss of his wife drove him into the 
one absorbing occupation which seemed open to him. 
Land speculations and rough frontier farming were 
desolate enough at best, and to a man bowed with his 
first great sorrow they must have seemed intolerable. 
He took refuge in politics, and his long and eventful 
public career began. 

He came upon the stage of American politics at a 
decisive moment in the history of the country. The 
federal Constitution was before the people, and na- 
tional existence was trembling in the balance. The 
feeling in Pennsylvania ran strongly in favor of the 
new scheme ; but Gallatin, with the vague dislike of en- 
ergetic government, which had impelled him to leave 
Europe, still strong upon him, cast in his lot with the 
minority and helped to draft some proposed amend- 
ments to the Constitution. Thus he became an anti- 
Federalist and one of the founders of the Republican 
party, to whose service he devoted the best years of 
his life. Elections followed to the State convention 
and the State legislature. By sheer force of industry 
and a clear, comprehensive mind, this young Swiss, 
unable to speak English fluently and a stranger in 
the land, at once raised himself to the position of a 
leader in Pennsylvania, and made himself respected 
and admired by men of all shades of politics. In 
the State legislature he acquired with marvelous rapid- 
ity the same extraordinary influence which he soon 
afterwards wielded in Congress, and there is nothing 
more striking; in his career than the confidence in his 



270 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

ability and capacity which he seems to have impressed 
at once upon all with whom he had to deal. 

But while Gallatin was thus rising to be the fore- 
most Republican in Pennsylvania, that portion of the 
State which he represented was drawn into a mo- 
mentous contest with the national government. The 
excise laid by Hamilton was the cause of the trouble, 
and Mr. Adams appears to think that this measure 
was too strong, and that the government ought not 
to have endangered its existence by introducing it. 
Hamilton's theory, however, was simple and correct. 
The government needed money, and nothing of course 
was so proper for taxation as spirits. If a suitable and 
necessary tax of this kind could not be laid and col- 
lected, the sooner the government went to pieces the 
better, for it would have failed of its main purpose. 
Hamilton did not shrink from ajiplying this test of 
stability at once, and events proved that he was right. 
Sooner or later the government would be compelled to 
lay an unpopular tax, and its very existence depended 
on its success in doing so, for there was nothing which 
could place the government on a firm footing so quickly 
as a demonstration of its ability to carry out the laws. 
Hamilton forced the issue, it must be admitted ; but the 
result justified the attempt, and did more than anything 
else for many years to give permanency and vigor to the 
new scheme and to remove the doubts which any sign 
of weakness would have converted into aggressive and 
probably fatal hostility. 

Gallatin came forward at once as a leader in oppo- 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 271 

sition to the excise. He limited his opposition to legal 
means of resistance, and thus marked out for himself a 
dangerous and narrow path, for by such conduct he was 
sure to meet with reproach from all who supported the 
government, while the rough population which he led 
was ready to do anything except confine themselves 
to strictly lawful measures. In the midst of the con- 
flict about the excise, Gallatin was chosen United 
States Senator from Pennsylvania by the votes of both 
political parties, and a higher compliment to character 
and ability has seldom been paid to any man in this 
country. But his new honors were short-lived. Party 
lines were now drawn very tightly, and the stanch Fed- 
eralists of the Senate regarded with extreme disfavor 
this young Frenchman, whom they set down as a man 
of leveling principles and a leader of insurrection 
against the government. They therefore took ad- 
vantage of a technical doubt as to his citizenship, an- 
nulled his election, and sent him back to private life 
with a halo of political martyrdom. 

Meantime the resistance to the excise was rapidly 
coming to a crisis, and the time came for Gallatin to 
confine that resistance within legal limits. He failed, 
of course. He had sown the wind, and for a few 
weeks he had the pleasure of reaping the usual har- 
vest. Mr. Adams has made very clear the law-abiding 
nature of Gallatin's opposition, and there is no more 
exciting passage in his career than when with splendid 
courage he faced an armed and excited crowd of wild 
frontiers-men at Redstone Old-Fort, and at the risk of 



272 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

his life denounced the cherished plans of his hearers. 
Although he failed to prevent insurrection and riot, he 
succeeded in breaking their force in season to avoid 
bloodshed, but he was only just in time. Hamilton 
and Washington had at last determined to move, and 
stake the success of their experiment upon the result ; 
and when they did act, it was with such energy and 
vigor that the issue was certain. Hamilton's bold 
policy prevailed, and the Pennsylvania rebellion faded 
helplessly away before an overwhelming force. The 
courage, manliness, and upright intentions of Gallatin 
in this rather sorry business of the " whiskey rebellion " 
have been made perfectly clear by Mr. Adams ; but 
his mistakes at this time also come out very distinctly 
in the biography. When one encourages legal re- 
sistance to an established government, some account 
should be taken of the character of the popidation. 
This Gallatin either did not do, or else he failed to 
understand his constituents. When he found what 
he had let loose, he threw himself into opposition, and 
contributed largely to make the " whiskey rebellion " 
abortive and rather ludicrous instead of extremely 
tragic as it might well have been. Gallatin has paid 
the penalty for his mistake, by appearing to posterity 
as a leader in the first revolt against our national 
government. Mr. Adams has relieved him from all 
shadow of wrong intention ; yet it is to be feared 
that the popidar conception of Gallatin as the leader 
and fomenter of rebellion will never be wholly dis- 
pelled. 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 273 

But however much Gallatin may now suffer from 
his connection with the Western insurrection, it is cer- 
tain that he profited greatly from it at the moment. 
He was almost the only Western man who had come 
out of the troubles with any reputation, and the popu- 
lar sense of this fact was soon shown by his election to 
the House of Representatives. 

In this new sphere Gallatin met with the same suc- 
cess which had attended him in the legislature of 
Pennsylvania. He was preeminently endowed with 
a faculty of seeing thmgs exactly as they were, a very 
fine quality of mental strength to which much of his 
success in life was due, and which told with great ef- 
fect as soon as he entered the field of national politics. 
It has also enabled him to give accounts of himself 
which are simply wonderful in their exactness. As to 
his career in Congress, for instance, he says : — 

" It is certainly a subject of self-gratulation that I 
should have been allowed to take the lead with such 
coadjutors as Madison, Giles, Livingston, and Nicholas, 
and that when deprived of the powerful assistance of 
the first two, who had both withdrawn in 1798, I was 
able ro contend on equal terms with the host of talents 
collected in the Federal party, — Griswold, Bayard, 
Harper, Goodrich, Otis, Smith, Sitgreaves, Dana, and 
even J. Marshall. Yet I was destitute of eloquence, 
and had to surmount the great obstacle of speaking in 
a foreign language and with a very bad pronunciation. 
My advantages consisted in laborious investigation, 
habits of analysis, thorough knowledge of the subjects 

18 



274 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

under discussion, and more extensive general infor- 
mation due to an excellent early education, to which 
I think I may add quickness of ajsprehension and a 
sound judgment." 

And we may add unflmching courage, perfect com- 
mand of temper, great intellectual force, and modera- 
tion in speech toward all men. Gallatin at once took 
the leadership of the Republican party, and retained 
it during his six years in the House. That he should 
have wrested it from the other Republican chiefs does 
not seem to us so striking as it does to Mr. Adams. 
Madison was a great man, the greatest in Congress 
when his future secretary first appeared there ; but he 
was hot a strong parliamentary leader, and the rest of 
the Republican talent, with the exception of Edward 
Livingston, was trifling when compared to the force of 
such a man as Gallatin. Gallatin's greatest triumphs 
were won over his adversaries, who were then an able 
and numerous body ; and yet as we now gather here 
and there Gallatin's veritable opinions on public ques- 
tions, it is not easy to see wherein he differed essen- 
tially from the Federalists. In 1793, for example, he 
speaks of the French revolution as the cause of man- 
kind against tyrants, but led by men greedy of j)ower 
and not likely to result in good government ; and al- 
though he supported Monroe and defended his conduct 
in Paris, Gallatin was very far from sharing the vio- 
lent French prejudices of his party. At the same pe- 
riod, in regard to Genet he expresses the hope that all 
parties will unite against the arrogance of any foreign 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 275 

power and be ready to light. These were undoubtedly 
the views of the bulk of the Federalist party at that 
time, and it was the same in regard to other vital 
principles, Gallatin was in the opposition because he 
dreaded strong government and thought the Federal- 
ists leaned too much in that direction, and not at all 
from any radical differences such as divided Jefferson 
from Washington and Hamilton. " Though not quite 
as orthodox as my Virginia friends," he says, " (wit- 
ness the United States bank and internal improve- 
ment) I was opposed to any usurpation of powers by 
the general government." By the very fact of birth, 
Gallatin could not be anytliing but a nationalist. In 
that respect he and Hamilton stood on the same ground, 
their opinions differing only in degree. Neither of 
them ever thought, as their contemporaries all did, 
what Virginia or Massachusetts or New York would 
say or do, but simply what the general policy ought to 
be. Gallatin was divided from the members of his 
party by the impassable barrier of state's rights as well 
as by their impracticable opposition to all the neces- 
sary machinery of successful government of which the 
Federalists were the champions. In a man so consti- 
tuted mentally, and perfectly fearless morally, the 
Federalists found an adversary differing little in real- 
ity from one of themselves, and a foeman worthy of 
their steel. As a rule they had been used to make 
short work of Mr. Jefferson's followers in debate, but 
the appearance of Gallatin made a decided change. 
His first act as a member of Congress was to assume 



276 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the vacant post of financier to the opposition, whence 
he preached forcibly and clearly his cardinal doctrines 
of economy and simplicity. The only point of real 
difference in this matter between him and his ojDpo- 
nents, as he himself says, was connected with French 
hostilities and the policy of establishing a navy. But 
Gallatin did great and effective service in modifying 
and improving the financial schemes of the govern- 
ment, and incidentally built up his own financial rep- 
utation. It is impossible in a brief sketch to follow 
him closely though his congressional career. In every 
important question it was Gallatin who made the 
great speech of the opposition, and bore the brmit of 
the enemy's attacks. He was not eloquent, but he 
was eminently forcible and effective. Every quality, 
however, sinks into insignificance beside his perfect 
command of temper. In a bitterly personal age and 
in the most heated personal debates he never indulged 
in personalities. The temptation to do so must have 
been almost irresistible, for while the Federalist party 
had many virtues, gentle forbearance toward opponents 
was not among them. Gallatin was peculiarly obnox- 
ious to them on every account, and they treated him 
accordingly. The Federalists had a fine command of 
language, especially of the language of invective, and 
Gallatin drew it forth freely. His birth, his French 
blood, his unlucky accent, and his supposed foreign 
sympathies were all used to lash him into fury, to 
discredit him with the people, and make him desj^ised. 
At rare intervals Gallatin would fire up with an 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 277 

indignant retort full of keen and vigorous sarcasm, 
but he usually passed over in silence all assaults, 
whether made with the rapier or the broadsword, and 
stuck close to his argument and to the subject in hand. 
In his imperturbable self-control the Federalists found 
the most dangerous resistance. Such a man was sel- 
dom carried away by the heat of battle to put himself 
at a disadvantage, or to engage with an antagonist 
who clearly had the best ground. When John Mar- 
shall sat down after his great speech on the Jonathan 
Eobbins case, the Republicans flocked around their 
chief and begged him to reply, but Gallatin said to 
them with his treacherous accent : '' Gentlemen, answer 
it yourselves ; for my part I think it unan^toe/'able." 
The same shrewd sense and clear appreciation of facts 
were shown in all that related to Gallatin's action as 
a party leader. It was in questions of policy that he 
usually erred. His most extreme followers sometimes 
thought him a trimmer, yet it is curious to see that it 
was his party loyalty which induced all his mistakes. 
When he was acting solely in accordance with his own 
views he was generally right and always reasonable ; 
when he was contending for ;party principles he was 
very apt to go wrong. His course in regard to the 
Jay treaty was in part, at least, an instance of the 
first ; the navy, commercial treaties, and diplomatic 
relations were examples of the second. In the first 
instance he defended the constitutional right of the 
House to consider a treaty involving appropriations, 
but he did not urge the rejection of the one actually 



278 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

in hand. In the case of the navy he fell in with the 
ideas of his party, and Mr. Adams makes a plausible 
and ingenious defense of Gallatin's course upon this 
question, which seems to me perfectly unsound. Mr. 
Adams's argument is that perfect protection of our 
commerce everywhere is impossible, that this was 
Gallatin's theory, and is the one which has ultimately 
prevailed. The flaw is in the assumption that the 
Federalists aimed at complete protection, and that 
they were opposed by the Republicans on the ground 
of impracticability. The Federalists simply wished a 
naval force sufficient to protect us from insult, and to 
act as a police on the seas and in our own and foreign 
harbors. This is the precise theory which is accepted 
to-day ; and if our navy had been properly adminis- 
tered, this is what it would now be. The Republican 
party, on the other hand, did not advocate a small and 
efficient force for police purposes, but resisted the 
creation of any navy whatever. Gallatin never com- 
mitted a greater blunder than in his opposition on this 
question, and he subsequently changed his views after 
a good deal of bitter experience. In the same way 
he altered his opinions as to commercial treaties and 
diplomatic relations ; but the process of conversion 
was severe, and came only after long years of power. 

The most creditable part of Gallatin's cai^eer in 
Congress was when his party was at its lowest point, 
overwhelmed by the X. Y. Z. letters and by their 
own advocacy of France. Most of the Republican 
leaders either left Philadelphia at that time or went 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 279 

over to the war party. Gallatin alone remained and 
fought the battle wisely, temperately, and single- 
handed. The Federalists bore down upon him un- 
mercifvdly, and sought to crush him at all hazards. 
They even tried to exclude him from office by amend- 
ing the Constitution, but Gallatin never swerved. 
Alone and deserted he struggled on through the dark 
days of his party, determined to make a national fight 
in the national legislature, and relying very little 
upon resolutions by Kentucky and Virginia. But 
when everything seemed most hopeless the tide had 
turned. Fierce quarrels broke out in the dominant 
party. Negotiations were opened with France. The 
war party was crushed. The alien and sedition laws 
shocked the country, and the next election carried the 
Republicans into i30wer. 

Then came the election in the House. At last we 
know who it was that steered the Republican party 
through the perils that beset the country when the 
Federalists strove madly to elevate Burr over Jeffer- 
son. It was not Thomas Jefferson himself to whom 
the credit has hitherto been given, but Albert Galla- 
tin ; and we find in these volumes the careful arrange- 
ments for every emergency, and the temperance, pa- 
tience, and moderation which saved the Republicans 
from losing not merely their rights but the sympathy 
of the country. There is a great debt of gratitude dvie 
to Gallatin for his wise leadership in the winter of 
1801. 

When Jefferson came into power, borne on the full 



280 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tide of success, there were two men who had an un- 
questioned right to the chief places in his cabinet, — 
James Madison and Albert Gallatin. Both, by habit 
of mind, by character and modes of thought, were 
really Federalists, driven by circumstances into the 
ranks of Democracy ; and they formed with the Presi- 
dent, who was of a wholly different type, a triumvirate 
which ruled the country for the next twelve years. 
The other members of the cabinet during that period 
were merely ciphers in the great account. Jefferson 
brought the best ability of his party into his cabinet, 
and nearly all there was ; but it was concentrated in 
two men, and upon Gallatin as secretary of the treasury 
the heaviest burden fell, especially during the first 
term. Economy and payment of the debt were the 
main objects of both Jefferson and Gallatin ; but 
Hamilton's system was not susceptible of much im- 
provement, and the alterations made were insignifi- 
cant. Gallatin was essentially a conservative, with no 
desire to change existing arrangements for the sake 
of change merely ; but aided by a rapidly increasing 
revenue he was able to carry out his schemes and pay 
the debt in a way impossible to his predecessors. His 
management was skillful in the highest degree. The 
one problem was to get rid of internal taxes, and this 
could be done only by reducing expenditure in the 
navy, a difficulty with whicli Gallatin wrestled in vain. 
The efficiency of the navy was reduced, but not its 
expense ; and Gallatin chafed continually at the lax 
management of the department. Jefferson's precious 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 281 

gunboat scheme at last rendered hopeless all efforts 
in this direction, and the Mediterranean fund was 
invented to effect the old purposes under a new name. 
Freedom from debt was Gallatin's pole star, and all 
his views for six years conformed to this object. 
Fighting or paying the Barbary States was a mere 
question of cost ; any action leading to war was bad, 
inasmuch as it was cheaper to make concessions ; re- 
strictive commercial measures were fatally expensive, 
and it was good economy to seize Louisiana promptly, 
rather than to await the settlement of doubtfid points. 
With infinite toil he persevered, until at the end of six 
years the promised land seemed in sight. The debt 
had been paid as far as possible ; a large surplus was 
on hand, and Gallatin had a comprehensive scheme of 
internal improvements ready for execution. It was at 
this moment that the storm of foreign war burst upon 
us, and the frail financial fabric, so painfully reared, 
came toppling to the ground. 

With no unmanly regrets Gallatin set himself to 
make the best of what remained. He dreaded even 
the appearance of any sympathy with Bonaparte ; he 
wished every proper concession in order to gain peace 
with England ; and in season and out of season he 
urged the old Federalist policy of making preparations 
to fight effectively as soon as it was probable that we 
must fight. He seems to have had little sympathy 
with the embargo, but he strained every nerve to carry 
it out loyally and effectually. With this purpose he 
demanded sti'onger laws and sharper weapons. If the 



282 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

embargo was to have any result it must be complete, 
and he had no sympathy with Jefferson's favoritism 
for this or that Republican governor. Congress gave 
him the necessary legislation. Armed with powers 
compared to which the alien and sedition laws seemed 
trivial, Gallatin — the foe of strong government, the 
instigator of resistance to the excise, and the friend of 
humanity — set himself to enforce some of the most 
oppressive acts ever passed by any American legisla- 
ture. The conchision was failure and defeat. Galla- 
tin and Madison, on the accession of the latter to the 
presidency, could only try to extricate the country 
by negotiation from the snarl created by Jefferson. 
The Erskine affair gave a momentary breathing sj)ace, 
and then the clouds gathered more thickly than be- 
fore. 

Gallatin's position in the new administration was 
worse than under Jefferson. He had lost his influ- 
ence in Congress and his hold upon Pensylvania, and 
a powerful faction, bent upon his destruction, had 
grown up in the Senate under the control of General 
Sam Smith, of Maryland, and of the attractive Giles, 
who snapped and barked at every fu-st-rate man in 
our early history. This faction had a representative 
in the cabinet in the person of Robert Smith, brother 
and tool of the senator. Thej^ thwarted Gallatin, who 
was now the ruling spirit of the administration, at 
every turn. They defeated the bank ; they threw 
over the commercial measures and the foreign policy ; 
they weakened the country to the last point when war 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 283 

was actually impending, and they reduced the govern- 
ment and its legislation to utter inanity. One of 
their blundering measures, however, hit the mark in 
France and turned the Emperor from open outrage to 
underhand plots. Bonaparte hoodwinked our unlucky 
adminstration and tricked us into wa,r with England. 
That Mr. Madison should have so easily become his 
dupe was due to the almost insuperable difficulties of 
the situation, and to the old and miserable traditions 
of French friendship. It was a capital error, and was 
expiated by three years of war. France, as is well 
known, acted in bad faith throughout, and never 
intended to repeal the decrees whose revocation she 
announced ; but the conclusive proof has been re- 
served for this biography. Mr. Gallatin, when minis- 
ter to France, came across a decree issued from the 
Trianon at the very moment when pledges were being 
made and accepted that the old policy towards us 
should be abandoned. In this Trianon decree the lie 
was given to the ostensible action and loud protesta- 
tions of the Emperor; and Mr. Gallatin comments 
upon it with a bitterness so unusual that it shows only 
too clearly how sharply he felt the treachery of which 
he had been the victim, and which had led to such 
lamentable results. But Napoleon attained his ob- 
ject. England refused to put faith in his unsupported 
promises, and the United States rushed into the war 
of 1812. 

In the mean time the fight with the Smith faction 
came to a head, and Gallatin told Madison that he must 



284 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

leave the cabinet. Madison was not a strong man, 
but he was both loyal and honorable ; he accepted the 
alternative and dismissed Kobert Smith from the sec- 
retaryship o£ state. Gallatin was left master of the 
cabinet ; but his victory was dearly bought. The 
false measures of the administration in regard to 
France gave the Smiths a good ground to stand ujaon, 
and they cried loudly and pertinaciously that Robert 
Smith had been sacrificed out of subserviency to 
France. The Federalists eagerly took up the cry, 
and, although the feeble ex-secretary quickly sank 
into his native insignificance, the faction became more 
dangerous than ever. Thus fettered in the legislature 
and, thanks to the rejection of all Gallatin's measures, 
totally unprepared, the administration was hurried 
into war. 

This brings us to the one act of Gallatin's life 
which all who admire him must wish effaced. In 
November, 1811, he sent in a report to Congress in 
which he stated that the peace revenue then necessary 
would be sufficient with the aid of loans for war ; he 
also failed to state the fact that to make provision for 
the interest of these loans, additional taxes would be 
necessary, and he accepted the current estimates of 
war expenditure. Tlie first statement was false ; the 
omission in regard to the loans was vital, and the 
common war estimates Gallatin knew to be erroneous. 
Mr. Adams refers to all these matters as important 
omissions due to " inadvertence." That Gallatin, 
with his clear mind and long experience, should have 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 285 

made such statements and omissions through " inad- 
vertence " seems to me simply incredible. They went 
to the very root of the matter, and the financial report 
was able either to check or encourage the war party. 
Mr. Adams also says that Gallatin wished to present 
as favorable a showing as was consistent with truth, 
and bring about harmony and cooperation between 
Congress and the Executive, and that this was in fact 
Gallatin's object cannot be doubted. The whole mat- 
ter may be susceptible of explanation ; but as it stands 
it wears an ugly look and admits of but one conclu- 
sion, — that Gallatin, to gain a temporary advantage, 
sent to Congress a grossly deceptive report. The re- 
sult was that the war party was encouraged to the 
point of making war and dragging the helpless ad- 
ministration after them, while the hostile feelings of 
the various factions were not in the least allayed. In 
the spring Gallatin tried to stay the war fever by true 
accounts of our finances; but the honesty came too 
late. Not only was war declared, but no adequate 
financial provisions were made ; and the result in the 
beginning was defeat, and in the end a narrow escape 
from bankruptcy. 

Once involved in war, however, Gallatin set his 
financial house in order and bent all his energy to- 
ward obtaining peace. He grasped at the Russian 
mediation, and went as commissioner to Europe with- 
out relinquishing the treasury. When his appoint- 
ment was rejected by the Senate, he laid down the 
treasury and took the lead in the new commission. 



286 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

With coolness, tact, and firmness he confronted the 
English negotiators, who were all second-rate as well 
as obstinate and ignorant men, and by a still greater 
exercise of the same qualities he managed and held 
together his fellow commissioners, who had strong 
wills and jarring characters. I cannot agree with 
Mr. Adams that Gallatin equaled Franklin in diplo- 
macy, but no one in our history except Franklin can 
be ranked above him. Peace rewarded Gallatin's 
skill and persistence, and he soon after accepted the 
post of minister to France, — a position which he held 
for seven years. 

In the congenial atmosphere of Paris Gallatin en- 
joyed all that was best in European society. He also 
worked hard at the business of his office, and strove 
with his usual perseverance and good judgment to 
settle the commercial relations of his adopted country 
with the nations of Europe. His meed of success was 
small, but he obtained all that was possible. He re- 
turned to America, in 1823, to find himself caught in 
the net-work of intrigue which had been woven about 
the succession to the presidency. The heir of the old 
triumvirate and the friend and favorite candidate of 
Gallatin was William H. Crawford. Gallatin was 
therefore forced to accept the second place on the 
Crawford ticket, from which, however, he was soon 
removed, on account of the unpopularity caused by his 
foreign origin and in deference to the arrangements of 
Mr. Van Buren. Mr. J. Q. Adams, who was finally 
elected to the presidency, sent him once more to Eng- 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 287 

land, where lie conducted another difficult and not 
very fruitful negotiation, and whence he returned to 
bid farewell forever to public life. 

Accepting a position in New York, which gave him 
a sufficient income, Gallatin turned to the scientific 
pursuits for which he had great aptitude, and made in 
this new field a lasting renown as the founder of In- 
dian ethnology. He continued also to exert a power- 
ful influence upon public questions, especially upon 
those connected with finance; and his last efforts were 
the composition and distribution of pamphlets against 
the Mexican war. There is a certain dramatic fitness 
in one of the closing scenes of his life. His first 
great act was when he faced the Western insurgents 
at Redstone Old-Fort ; and it was with the same un- 
daunted spirit that he spoke, when more than eighty 
years old, against the annexation of Texas, in defiance 
of the clamors and uproar of a violent and dangerous 
New York mob. In 1849 his long and eventful life 
came quietly to a close. 

I have confined myself to the occurrences most im- 
mediately connected with Gallatin's personal career, 
but his biography throws a strong light on other lives 
and characters besides his own. This is particularly 
the case with Thomas Jefferson, as well as with the 
party and the ideas of which he was the great leader 
and apostle. Not only are many letters from Jeffer- 
son given which have not been published before, but 
all his relations with Gallatin and the inmost secrets 
of his policy are disclosed. Mr. Adams never assails 



288 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Jefferson, but he pitilessly lays bare his conduct and 
actions as revealed in this new material, and nothing 
except his own letters and the famous " Ana " have 
done so much as this biography to lower Jefferson's 
position in history. 

One of the chief questions of Jefferson's first term 
was in regard to the civil service. In this important 
matter Gallatin was what would now be called a " the- 
orist." He wished officers of the government to have 
a permanent tenure and to be rigidly excluded from 
all political action. As soon as the new administra- 
tion came in, the Pennsylvania Democrats, headed by 
McKean, Duane, and Leib — who was described by 
Gallatin as "not respectable" — raised a cry for "j^ro- 
scription " and " spoils." They wished to expel all 
the actual incumbents, in order to divide the plunder 
among themselves and their followers, and they sought 
to reward men who in the spirit of revenge had be- 
trayed, during the previous administration, official se- 
crets in a garbled form to the " Aurora." Against all 
this Gallatin set his face, and thereby raised an ene- 
my in Duane who harassed him for years, and was a 
principal member of the Smith faction. In this hon- 
orable contest one would have supj)osed that Gallatin 
might have relied upon the support of his chief, but 
the reverse was the case. Jefferson persisted in grati- 
fying his lowest partisans and his owti party feelings 
so far as he could without actually revolting flie public 
sense of decency. In 1803 it was Jefferson who wrote 
to Duane in a conciliatory vein that every possible re- 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 289 

moval had been made, and that of three hundred and 
sixteen offices only one hundred and thirty remained 
in Federalist hands. In direct opposition to the 
wishes of his ablest adviser, Jefferson fomided the 
"spoils" system, and on this important matter he dif- 
fered from Jackson only in preserving some regard for 
apj)earances. 

It was the same in the matter of the navy. Good 
management was necessary in that department in order 
to promote the economy and relief from taxation which 
lay so near Gallatin's heart, and which had been the 
chief weapons used against the Federalists. Jefferson 
not only did not enforce such management, but he sad- 
dled the navy with his preposterous gunboats, and 
hopelessly fettered Gallatin's movements in this direc- 
tion. He wrecked John Adams's admirable naval 
policy without saving a dollar, and in the same way 
he forced through his disastrous policy of commercial 
warfare. Gallatin carried it out to the bitter end ; 
and, when it failed, Jefferson deliberately abdicated 
his official duties and his sworn responsibility in order 
to throw the burden he had created upon the shoul- 
ders of his successor and of his faithful minister of 
finance. After the defeat of the embargo, and for the 
remainder of his term, Jefferson ceased to be presi- 
dent in aught but name, and absolutely made Madison 
and Gallatin conduct the government. 

Worse than all, in a merely personal point of view, 
was his treatment of Gallatin himself. Duane, Leib, 
and the others of that ilk in Pennsylvania attacked 

19 



290 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

tlie Secretary at an early day, and waged unceasing 
war upon liim. Yet Jefferson never showed anything 
but kindness to these political jackals who were yelp- 
ing at the heels of his confidential adviser and the 
leading spirit of his administration. The poor excuse 
of party harmony will not serve here. Jefferson was 
the greatest party leader in our history, and no man 
was more ready or more able to enforce discipline. 
Aaron Burr was the principal party chief when Jeffer- 
son, contrary to the wishes of his advisers, first marked 
him out for destruction. He forced a quarrel with 
Burr, and broke him down with a dexterity which ex- 
cites profound admiration if not respect. He dealt as 
easily with John Randolph. Yet he spared and cher- 
ished Duane. Burr was a dangerous rival, Randolph 
a formidable leader, Duane a useful partisan. So Jef- 
ferson deliberately sacrificed Gallatin's comfort and 
exposed him to all the attacks of faction, rather than 
displease or part with a set of low and unscrupulous 
allies. It would have been well for Jefferson's reputa- 
tion if the life of Gallatin had remained unwritten. 

The most interesting thought suggested by the book, 
however, is in regard to the theory which Gallatin 
brought with him into the Treasury Department and 
which he strove so manfully to establish. The victory 
of the democratic principle of government was assured 
by the election of Jefferson. It was his theory of ad- 
ministration which was put on trial. According to 
this doctrine, which was Gallatin's as well, government 
could be carried on upon an a priori theory based on 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 291 

tlie perfectness of untrammeled hmnan nature, in 
contradistinction to the Federalist theory of a govern- 
ment according to circumstances, with a large allow- 
ance for the action of human passion and error. If 
government was reduced to the utmost simplicity, debts 
paid and taxes abolished, and every man left perfectly 
free, there could hardly fail to be a political millenium, 
and every one would give hearty support to men who 
aimed with purity of motives and singleness of purpose 
at such a consummation. For six years all this seemed 
possible. Then came the stress of war and outbreaks 
of feeling and passion, and the whole theory was swept 
away. Gallatin, the enemy of strong government ac- 
cording to circumstances, fomid himself the principal 
supporter of this dreaded system and the chief actor 
in it. He performed his part extremely well ; but his 
fine Utopia was gone. Circumstances and humanity 
were too much for his theory, though not for him ; and 
they completely crushed Jefferson. Federalist meth- 
ods triumphed after their aristocratic theory had failed, 
and nothing that has been written goes farther in show- 
ing that the Federalists, from 1789 to 1801, were the 
ablest political party this country has ever seen than 
the Life of Albert Gallatin. 

Of Gallatin personally much might be said, for he 
had a strong and interesting character. He curiously 
resembles the sons of the Puritans whom he so much 
opposed, for the faith of Calvin seems to have produced 
a type in Geneva very similar to that of Massachusetts. 
There is no trace of French vivacity in Gallatin's cor- 



292 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

resj^ondence, and his letters, indeed, might have been 
written by the gravest of the Federalists. There is a 
marked austerity in his morals, in his reverence for do- 
mestic life, and in his tender love of wife and children ; 
and there is throughout the same unbending cour- 
age and tenacity of purpose which distinguished the 
people of New England. But here the resemblance 
ends. The reckless audacity, the capacity for being 
" good haters," the narrowness of mind so common in 
the English Puritans and their descendants, are not 
found in Gallatin. He was self-contained, cool, and 
reticent to an extraordinary degree; and he never 
gave way to bursts of passion, or raged with savage in- 
vective against his enemies. In these qualities he was 
conspicuous, and they are among his most admirable 
traits. His place in the scale of ability may be easily 
assigned. He was not so great a man as Hamilton, 
with whom he must inevitably be compared. He 
lacked the fire and brilliancy as well as the dashing 
energy and impassioned temperament of the great 
Federalist. He made fewer mistakes than Hamilton, 
yet he did not achieve a like success ; but he seems to 
have been, on the whole, the strongest man in his own 
party. He had not the suppleness and skill of Jeffer- 
son, nor the keen legal mind of Madison. He lacked, 
too, the warm human sympathies of the former and 
the gentle, winning nature of the latter, while his cold 
reserve repelled to such a degree that he never aroused 
the affection of the people or of those about him. But 
he had a stern courage which was wanting in Jeffer- 



ALBERT GALLATIN. 293 

son, and the strength so much needed by Madison. In 
mere intellectual vigor he surpassed the first, and he 
was quite the equal o£ the second. 

Just, temperate, wise, and of high intellectual 
power,. Albert Gallatin may be fitly ranked as one of 
the great men of American history. The proof lies in 
his long and honorable public life, and in his eminent 
and manifold services to the country of his adoption. 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 



In the year 1835 Richard Cobden traveled for a 
month in the United States, and some of his observa- 
tions upon what he saw and heard there are recorded 
in his biography, lately published by Mr. Morley. Mr. 
Cobden sets down, among other things, as the best 
example he could give of the wild extravagance of 
American brag, the following anecdote : " Judge 
Boardman, speaking of Daniel A¥ebster, said, quite 
coolly and v/ithout a smile, — for I looked for one 
very closely, thinking he joked, — ' I do not know if 
the great Lord Chatham might not have been his 
equal, but certainly no British statesman has, since 
his day, deserved to be compared with hmi.' " Com- 
ment upon a statement so perfectly monstrous ap- 
peared to Mr. Cobden not merely superfluous, but 
preposterous. To one of the controlling minds, and 
one of the most liberal men of modern England, it 
seemed that only the maddest vanity would think of 
even mentioning Daniel Webster in the same breath 
with great English statesmen. Yet if we were now to 
somewhat modify Judge Boardman's statement, and 
say that since the death of Charles Fox no English 
statesman, except Mr. Gladstone, has been the in- 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 295 

tellectual equal of Daniel Webster, few persons whose 
opinion is worth anything would be likely to dissent. 

Nearly half a century has elapsed since Mr. Cobden 
recorded this anecdote and sent it across the water to 
his brother, and thirty years have come and gone since 
the day when the eager attention of this nation was 
concentrated upon the death chamber at Marshfield. 
Of late there has been a revival of interest in Web- 
ster, indicated by new editions of his speeches, by pub- 
lished reminiscences, by the statue in New York, and 
now by the observances which have just marked the 
centennial anniversary of his birth.^ It is therefore 
not unfitting, perhaps, to attempt at this time a his- 
torical estimate of Webster's character and career. 
Under ordinar}'' circumstances the period thus in- 
volved would be too near to us for critical history in 
any form, but the intervening war has riven a chasm 
so deep and wide between that time and this that the 
events of Webster's life belong to a different era, al- 
most as much as the downfall of the Federalists in 
1800, or the war with England in 1812. But this is 
not enough. In order to reach a purely historical 
judgment of Webster, — which is the only one worth 
seeking, for there has been an abundance of others, 
of every degree of merit, — we must approach him 
historically. We must come to him neither from the 
point of view of those whose feelings found their best 
expression in the noble lines of " Ichabod," nor, on the 
other hand, from that of the men 

1 January 18, 1882. 



296 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

" That had loved him so, followed him, honored him, 
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye, 
Learned his great language, caught his clear accents, 
Made him their pattern to live and to die." 

We must seek the Webster of history with the open 
mind of the generations to which he is, for the most 
part, only a great name and a great tradition ; and 
seeking in this spirit we can find him, as he still lives, 
and as he will always live, in his speeches, arguments, 
letters, and state j)apers ; in the biographies and anec- 
dotes of friends ; in the eulogies of admirers, and in 
the attacks of his enemies. 

There is no need to rehearse in detail the events 
of Webster's early life. He sprang from a pure, 
hardy, and very tyjjical Puritan stock, a family of 
borderers, possessing in the highest degree the stub- 
born tenacity of New England which had enabled 
them in the struggle with earth, air, and man, savage 
and civilized, to wring a bare subsistence from their 
granite hills. Webster's father was an Indian fighter, 
one of Rogers's famous rangers in the old French war, 
and a captain in the revolution. Education had been 
sacrificed by him to the trade of arms, and he deter- 
mined that this loss should be spared to one at least 
of his sons. In accordance with this resolve he se- 
lected Daniel, his youngest boy, who was slender, del- 
icate, and unfitted for the hard toil of the fields, and 
sent him to school and to college. Every one is famil- 
iar with the touching affection of the son thus favored, 
who, not content with his own good fortune, turned 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 297 

back to draw his elder brother after him into learn- 
ing's road, at the cost of much to himself and of fresh 
privations on the part of the devoted parents. Study 
of the law followed graduation, all accompanied by a 
dire struggle- with the most pinching poverty, until at 
last the brothers managed to go to Boston, where the 
younger one was fortunate enough to obtain a clerk's 
place in the office of Christopher Gore. Here Web- 
ster acquired much knowledge of his profession, and 
had the benefit also of the society of a cultivated man 
of the world, a ripe lawyer, an experienced public 
man, and a fine gentleman in the best and truest 
sense of the term, whose high-bred face looks benignly 
upon us from one of Stuart's canvases. Webster's 
mind was sure to expand beneath such influences, and, 
thanks to Mr. Gore, he put aside the temptation of a 
clerkship in the courts, which would have given him 
immediate independence, and very probably might 
have checked his career. Wiser, if not richer, Web- 
ster returned to New Hampshire, and began the con- 
flict of life and the practice of the law in the little 
town of Boscawen, whence he soon removed, to Ports- 
mouth, the chief town of the State. There he married, 
and passed nine happy years in the pursuit of his pro- 
fession, meeting in Jeremiah Mason an antagonist who 
taught him much, and forced the development of the 
powers of mind which speedily placed him at the head 
of the little bar of his native State. 

In 1812 Mr. Webster was elected to Congress, and 
took his seat in May, 1813, at the extra session. Up to 



298 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

this time he had taken no more interest in politics than 
was natural to any intelligent and active man in a pe- 
riod of strong political excitement. When he entered 
public life Mr. Webster may be described as a firm but 
moderate Federalist. He was strongly opposed to the 
embargo and to the war, but when war was once de- 
clared he was not prepared to go on with the extreme 
Federalists in a bitter and unrelenting resistance to all 
measures of the administration. Young as he was, and 
new to public life, he came at once to the front with 
that masterful spirit which never left him, introducing 
at an early day a resolution designed to compel a dis- 
closure of the origin of the war, and supporting his mo- 
tion with a force which placed him at once among the 
leaders of the House, then numerous and distinguished. 
At the close of the war, when the Democratic party, 
floundering in a chaos of unpaid debts and disordered 
finances, was clamoring for a bank as loudly as they 
had before cried out against the one devised by Hamil- 
ton, Mr. Webster again took a most conspicuous part 
in opposition to the scheme of Mr. Calhoun, which 
threatened a wild inflation of the currency and an in- 
crease of existing difficulties. In a speech of singular 
clearness and merit he showed very plainly that in his 
years of political inactivity he had read and medi- 
tated deeply ; that he had classified and arranged his 
thoughts, and had accumulated stores of knowledge 
from which his retentive memory could at will draw 
forth weapons for the contest. In 1816 he led the 
opposition to Mr. Calhoun's tariff in another forcible 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 299 

and able speech. Mr. Webster belonged in this re- 
spect not to the school of Hamilton, but to that of the 
New England Federalists, who, while they had favored 
moderate protection in a few well-ascertained direc- 
tions, were, in the light of their own commercial in- 
terests, very averse to anything like a general protec- 
tive policy or an extensive tariff. 

These speeches and the position attained by Mr. 
Webster in Congress gave him necessarily a very 
great increase of reputation, but the field open to him 
in New Hampshire was manifestly too small, and 
could not yield him an income sufficient to provide for 
the needs of a growing family. Soon after his tariff 
speech, therefore, Mr. Webster removed to Boston, 
left Congress, and devoted himself to the pursuit of 
his profession. 

This temporary withdrawal to private life brought 
fresh successes, greater than anything achieved as yet 
by Mr. Webster as a public man. His career in Con- 
gress had opened to him a practice in the Supreme 
Court of the United States, and before that tribunal 
at Washington, in the year 1819, he appeared as coun- 
sel for Dartmouth College, in defense of their charter 
rights. The argument then delivered placed him at 
once at the head of the bar of the United States, and 
fixed his reputation as one of the gTeatest of our con- 
stitutional lawyers. This famous case was the source 
and forerunner of others of like character and impor- 
tance, which came to Mr. Webster at intervals through- 
out his whole subsequent career, and which were pre- 



300 STUDIES IN HI STORK 

sented by him with equal success and ability, although 
he never, perhaps, surpassed his first great effort.^ 

To every one competent to judge, that argument, 
with its easy flow of what one of its hearers called 
" pure reason," is familiar. It exhibits grasp, breadth, 
and smoothness ; it is logical and strong ; it has, in 
short, everything that a constitutional argument of the 
highest order should possess. The one quality, per- 
haps, for which it is preeminent, is felicity of presen- 
tation. The various facts and groups of facts, with 
the many arguments and branches of argument flow- 
ing from them, are so arranged and conjoined that the 
chain of reasoning runs out without check or hin- 
drance, and the listener passes from one subject to 
another, conscious only of the unbroken connection of 
thought, and of the close way in which one statement 
sustains and upholds another. 

A year after the delivery of this argument, Mr. 
Webster, in another field, achieved an equal if not a 
greater success by his oration at Plymouth, in com- 
memoration of the two hundredth anniversary of the 
landing of the Pilgrims. This address belongs to a 
branch of the art of oratory which is neither parlia- 
mentary, political, nor legal, but approaches most 
nearly, perhaps, to a lay sermon, with the incident of 
the day or the cause of the celebration as a text. To 

1 The cases of Gibbons v. Ogden, Ogden v. Saunders, and that 
growing out of the Rhode Island rebellion, will occur at once to 
every one as giving rise to some of the most memorable among 
Mr. Webster's constitutional arguments in court. 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 301 

that text the orator may stick closely, or he may deal 
in a general way with any and every subject of human 
interest, social, moral, or political; or, i£ he chooses, 
he may start, like Sir Walter Raleigh's history, at the 
beginning of the world, and come down, frequently 
plunging headlong, like Phaeton, to the earth of the 
present hour. Addresses of this sort offer a great 
temptation to survey mankind from China to Peru, 
and with most men, in attempts of this kind, the 
vision becomes indistinct, the outlines confused, and the 
historical and literary perspective very faulty. To 
Webster this wide scope was peculiarly attractive, and 
he was one of the rare men who could use it well. 
The oration which he delivered at Plymouth, in the 
first flush of his splendid powers, and with the con- 
sciousness of tlie resources of his strength still un- 
touched and unexplored, was the first of a brief series 
of similar ]>roductions, which have established his posi- 
tion as a great master in what, for want of a better 
name, may be called occasional oratory. The address 
at Plymouth is not, perhaps, quite so fine, as a whole 
it is not so rounded and complete, as one or two of the 
later ones, but it possesses, nevertheless, all Webster's 
characteristics in this field of eloquence, where his 
work is well worthy of study. The most striking 
quality of all these speeches is the grand sweep with 
which the orator passes over each and every subject. 
Yet with all this there is never the slightest pretense 
of universal knowledge. If he is dealing with history, 
of which he was very fond, it is with the ease and 



302 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

grace of a statesman, scholar, and man of the world, 
but with no affectation of abtruse learning. If tlie 
subject is science, as in the address before the Me- 
chanics' Institute, there is no yieldmg to the strong 
temptation to behave like Lord Brougham, and make 
a show of boundless knowledge by a glittering display 
of superficial and inaccurate information. It is the 
speech of a man of education and natural eloquence 
dealing with scientific topics in the general way which 
is becoming to one who is not a special student. In 
all these orations Webster moves easily on a high level 
of thought and feeling, and when he rises to a more 
impassioned strain it is with a pinion so strong that he 
carries us up with him, and brings us back without jar 
or shock. There is always the same clear presentation 
of ideas which is to be found in all his works, so that, 
while it seems as if the subject or the question must be 
very plain, the real secret of the lucidity and smooth- 
ness lies in the method in which the topics are han- 
dled. This clearness of arrangement is joined with a 
severe simplicity of style. The men of that day were 
versed in the rolling periods of the end of the eight- 
eenth century, and were most familiar with the Eng- 
lish of Johnson and Gibbon. In Webster's writings 
there are no traces of these influences. Whether he 
was saved from them by a youthful fondness for Addi- 
son, or by the example of plain, direct speech afforded 
him at the bar by Mr. Mason, saved from them he 
surely was. His sentences are never gorgeous, never 
loaded or involved. They are simple, nervous, com- 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 803 

pact. In his occasional orations, and in liis political 
speeches as well, there occur, of course, many rhetori- 
cal passages. Some of them, if detached from the 
context, seem even florid in thought, if not in exjires- 
sion. But when they are read in connection with the 
whole speech, and with due attention to the subject, 
they will be found to comply with what is the rule 
of good oratory as of good architecture, in being orna- 
ments to the construction and not constructed orna- 
ment. We are told that he was an unspai'ing censor 
of everything he published, and that he weeded out 
Latin derivatives with an unsparing hand. He cer- 
tainly clung closely to Anglo-Saxon words, but we 
doubt if revision could have found much to alter. 
From this practice he made one constant and, under 
the circumstances, very singular deviation : he invari- 
ably uses " commence " instead of " begin," — a vicious 
habit, and all the more noticeable from its recurrence 
in the midst of a style in every other respect simple 
and pure in a remarkable degree. 

In a similar way he is very sparing of imagery and 
metaphor, using them but seldom, and always with 
great point and effect. This was due to the same au- 
sterity of taste which is apparent in his style, not to 
any lack of imagination, for Webster had both the 
dramatic and poetic sense strongly developed. Tra- 
dition tells us that he was often highly dramatic in 
voice and manner, at times perhaps too much so, but 
there is no extravagance of language or tliought. 
The supposed speech of John Adams and the address 



304 STUblES IN HISTORY. 

to the survivors o£ the revolution at Bunker Hill 
beginning, " Venerable men," to take two well-known 
instances, are very dramatic, but they are neither 
forced nor theatrical. It was the same on the poetical 
side ; for, although Webster was a poor versifier, he 
had a genuine vein of poetry. Take, for example, 
that most familiar sentence at the laying of the corner- 
stone of Bunker Hill monument: "Let it rise ! Let 
it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming; let the 
earliest light of the morning gild it, and parting day 
linger and play on its summit." The thought and 
picture are alike poetical, and they are expressed in 
the simj)lest of English words, a rare combination, — 
so rare that we are wont to call it Shakespearean, and 
so easy in appearance that many persons think any 
one can effect it, and hold to that belief until they 
make the experiment themselves. 

The Plymouth oration was widely read, and gave a 
national fame to its author, who, at the same time, by 
his services in the constitutional convention of Massa- 
chusetts, was again brought conspicuously forward as 
a statesman and legislator possessing a profound and 
ample knowledge of organic questions of government 
and a rooted conservatism of temperament. All this 
bore fruit in a general wish for Mr. Webster's return 
to public life, and in 1823 he was elected to Congress 
by the Boston district. Again in Washington he vin- 
dicated his reputation as an orator by his speech on 
the Greek revolution, a subject which invited a dis- 
play of rhetoric upon the struggle for freedom then 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 305 

maintained by the inheritors of the brilliant history 
and traditions of Greece. But Mr. Webster spoke 
simply as a statesman urgent to have the United 
States take strong ground, and such as became them, 
against the doctrines of the Holy Alliance and the 
Congress of Laybach, which struck at the very founda- 
tions of the American system, and ought not, there- 
fore, to be passed over in silence. The speech had the 
effect which was intended in defining the position of 
the United States, and it brought out for the first time 
Webster's conception of the relations of his country 
to other nations, and of her importance and meaning 
in the affairs of civilized mankind. 

In the years which immediately followed, Mr. 
Webster stood at the head of the hard-pressed forces 
of the administration during the presidency of Mr. 
Adams, but a wider field and a position of more 
dignity were soon opened to him. In 1827 he was 
elected by the legislature to represent Massachusetts 
in the Senate, where his first important speech was 
delivered in support of the tariff of 1828. In 1816 
and in 1824 Mr. Webster had displayed gTeat ability 
in opposing the tariff, and had in fact headed the re- 
sistance to a protective policy ; so that the change of 
opinion which led him to defend the tariff of 1828 was 
used then and subsequently, by his enemies, to found 
a charge of inconsistency and time serving. Mr. Web- 
ster's position in 1828 was the one which he afterwards 
maintained to the close of his life, and was perfectly 
defensible. He said substantially, " New England has 

20 



306 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

steadily and consistently resisted protective measures, 
but you of the South and West have insisted upon 
them. You have passed the embargo laws, and you 
brought on the -war of 1812 ; and not content with 
this, you have enacted two tariff laws. The result has 
been to force the enterprise and the capital of New 
England into new channels, and to create a large 
number of industries. Tired of the experiment, you 
now propose to destroy the legislation to which New 
England has conformed, and force her to another 
change which would involve losses and disaster." The 
argument was logical, and, as a representative of New 
England, Mr. Webster's position was impregnable. 
The tariff of 1828, however, led to a struggle upon 
other issues which quite overshadowed the original 
cause. Out of the tariff came the resistance of South 
Carolina to the laws of the United States, and the 
doctrine of nullification formulated by Mr. Calhoun. 
This theory of disintegration and disunion for the first 
time found open expression and bold advocacy in a 
debate arising unexpectedly upon a harmless resolu- 
tion concerning the public lands. Its exponent was 
Mr. Hayne, who has gained an enduring, if unen- 
viable fame from having been crushed on this oc- 
casion by Mr. Webster. Hayne was, nevertheless, a 
man of much ability, young, fluent, and filled with 
the ideas of the Atlas of the slave world, who sat by 
and watched the conflict from the chair of the vice- 
president. His first speech went beyond the limits of 
the resolution, touching severely on New England, 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 307 

and hinting strongly at state resistance. To this Mr. 
Webster replied, and Hayne then responded at length, 
denouncing New England with increased vehemence, 
and boldly advocating the nullification doctrine. The 
next day, before a crowded audience, Mr. Webster 
answered him in a speech which stands unequaled 
in the annals of American debate, and is one of the 
masterpieces of English oratory. This great speech 
offers no loop-hole for criticism. In elevation of tone, 
in fitness to the imperial theme, in range of thought, 
patriotism, imagination, and style, it is all that the 
most exacting taste could demand. It has all the 
qualities of Mr. Webster's occasional speeches, to- 
gether with those other attributes which are required 
by debate. Mr. Webster made many other great 
speeches in Congress, but no one can doubt that he 
would be content to have his standing as a parlia- 
mentary orator determined by the reply to Hayne. 
That speech was delivered when he was in the prime 
of manhood and in the full vigor of his strength. 
His personal appearance, his voice and manner, then 
as always greatly enhanced the effect of everything 
he said. The slender boy, unfit for the labor of 
the farm, had developed into a man of large and com- 
manding presence. Although Mr. Webster was less 
than six feet in height, every artist has portrayed 
him as of almost heroic stature. The fact was that 
he impressed all who saw and heard him as of gi- 
gantic mould. A Liverpool navvy is said to have 
pointed at him, in the street, and called out, " There 



308 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

goes a king ! " and Carlyle is reported to have said 
that he looked like " a walking cathedral." His head 
was very large, of fine shape, and with a most noble 
brow, beneath which great eyes looked out full of 
dusky light when in repose, and glowing like fires 
when he was excited. Plis massive features, black 
hair, and swarthy complexion, together with a man- 
ner extremely grand and solemn, all contributed to 
render him impressive to an extraordinary degree. 
His voice was one of great richness and compass, in 
its highest pitch never shrill, but penetrating to the 
remotest corner of hall or senate-chamber, and in the 
open air to the very outskirts of a vast crowd. When 
he rose to reply to Hayne he must have had, like 
Lord Thurlow when he answered the Duke of Graf- 
ton, and in a still greater degree, "the look of Jove 
when he has grasped the thunder." 

The effect of this speech at the moment was over- 
whelming, and its results were hardly less so. It 
crushed the nullification theory in Congress, and forced 
the Southern leaders back upon the more difficult and 
less acceptable ground of secession. So far as argu- 
ment could go, circulated as it was in that speech by 
tens of thousands of copies, it fixed public opinion 
throughout the North at least in unalterable opposi- 
tion to the South Carolina doctrines, and prepared the 
whole country for the support of the administration in 
the crisis which was close at hand. 

In the speeches in Congress Jtnd before political 
bodies, among which the reply to Hayne stands first, 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 309 

Mr. Webster exhibited, as in his occasional orations, 
and in equal measure, the sweeping range o£ thought, 
the artistic presentation of facts and arguments, and 
the easy, powerful flight in the grander passages of 
passion or imagination for which he was always con- 
spicuous, while at the same time he never abandoned 
his nervous, forcible sentences or his clear simplicity 
of style. In those other qualities which are pecul- 
iarly necessary in parliamentary oratory and in debate 
he also excelled. He had perfect readiness in reply, 
swiftness in attack or defense, great command of facts, 
and an obedient and retentive memory. He was never 
a maker of epigrams or a master of keen retort, and 
never indulged in parliamentary fencing. He did not 
come upon the field like the modern duelist, trusting 
only to skill in the use of a thin, flexible, pointed strip 
of steel, but, like the knight of olden time, he rode 
into the tournament in full panoply of glittering armor 
and with well-poised lance, bearing down his oppo- 
nents by force, weight, and address, and never shrink- 
ing from the full shock of arms. In one respect Mr. 
Webster's career as a debater and orator is peculiar. 
He never, save in one memorable instance, when 
IngersoU of Pennsylvania and Dickinson of New York 
assailed his integrity, gave way to denunciation of his 
opponents. The temptation must have been great to 
a man of Webster's powers to indulge in personal at- 
tacks, but he always refrained, and used the danger- 
ous weapon of invective only against arguments and 
principles. With his opponents he employed a cold, 



310 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

dignified, rather argumentative, and very effective sar- 
casm, which suggests flaying, as in the case o£ Mr. 
Hayne. Yet this sarcasm has not the bitterness which 
• commends its victim to the listener's pit}^, but has 
rather beneath its gravity a throb of laughter and a 
sense of the ridiculous which keep the hearers in sym- 
'^^^"^ Wl»pathy with the orator. This grave sarcasm, with a 
^■^^ \\vh' subtle mingling of ridicule and amusement, appears 
jL». very strongly in Cicero's orations ag ainst Milo, and 

closely resembles the same trait in WebsteK It woidd 
be difficult to say why he was so sparing in the way 
of humor pure and simple ; certainly from no natural 
defect, for it abounds in his private letters, from the 
first exuberant epistles of youth down to the last ut- 
terances in the days of age and disappointment, while 
with those nearest to him the spirit of fun was always 
breaking out. Before the world, however, Webster 
was very grave and dignified, and this gTave dignity 
waxed ever more lofty and solemn as he advanced in 
years and fame. Still, the natural humor crops out 
now and then in his speeches, veiled sometimes under 
stately irony, sometimes coming with more freedom 
and directness. One example, rather of the latter 
than of the former kind, occurs in a speech of the year 
1838. Mr. Calhoun had bee.-', discussing the sub-treas- 
ury, had brought up slavery jind the tariff, and had at- 
tacked Mr. Webster, who hurried to the Senate, being 
informed on the way that Mr. Calhoun was " carrying 
the war into Africa." Mr< Webster began his reply 
in a laughing way, and after a few sentences said, — 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 311 

" Sir, this carrying the war into Africa, which has 
become so common a phrase among us, is indeed imi- 
tating a great example ; but it is an example which is 
not always followed with success. In the first place, 
every man, though he be a man of talent and genius, 
is not a Scipio ; and in the next place, as I recollect 
this part of Roman and Carthaginian history, — the 
gentleman may be more accurate, but as I recollect it, 
— when Scijjio resolved upon carrying the war into 
Africa, Hannibal was not at home. Now, sir, I am 
very little like Hannibal, but I am at home ; and when 
Scipio Africanus Soutli-Caroliniensis brings the war 
into my territories, I shall not leave their defense to 
Asdrubal, nor Syi)hax, nor anybody else. I meet him 
on the shore at his landing, and propose but one con- 
test. 

' Concurritur ; horje 

Momento cita mors venit, aut victoria Iseta.' " 

In the summer of 1830, just after the great reply to 
Hayne, when he was probably the most conspicuous 
man in the country and at the very zenith of his rep- 
utation, Mr. Webster made the best known and best 
preserved, as well as the most brilliant, of all his 
many addresses to a jury. He was called in to aid 
the government in the famous case of the White mur- 
der at Salem. It was freely charged then, and has 
been generally believed ever since, that this aid was 
due to a heavy fee from the relatives of the murdered 
man, and the explanations and defense of Webster's 
biographer confirm the unpleasant impression that 



312 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

money tainted the transaction. But, however that 
may be, Mr. Webster began his speech by defending 
himself against the insinuation that he had been 
brought there to " hurry the jury beyond the evi- 
dence," and then burst forth with that splendid exor- 
dium on murder general and murder particular which 
is in every soliool reader, and which as delivered by 
Webster was certainly calculated to terrify a jury, fill 
them with horror, and if necessary "" hurry them be- 
yond the evidence." After this opening he proceeded 
with his argument. In the most masterly manner he 
drew forth and reviewed the testimony, and, marshal- 
ing his facts in solid column, moved them forward in 
a way which must have swept every doubt from before 
their onward march. That Webster had an extraordi- 
nary power of convincing a jury cannot be questioned, 
but he must have affected them chiefly with a feeling 
of awe ; instead of leading he must have impressed 
them. In those very peculiar qualities which make a 
man a great advocate with the twelve judges of fact ; 
in variety and fertility, in the rapid mingling and al- 
ternation of wit and pathos, of grave argument, sol- 
emn exhortation, and quick ridicule, Webster was sur- 
passed, it must be admitted, by both Erskine and 
Choate, although the latter's fame, unfortunately, rests 
almost wholly upon tradition. At the same time there 
have probably been few men who have achieved better 
results in the difficult task of " getting a verdict." 

We have now glanced at Webster in every branch 
of the orator's art. In the Senate and in occasional 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 313 

speeches he was at his best, and above any other 
American o£ whom we have sufficient means of judg- 
ing. Mr. Everett tells us that in England Webster 
was compared frequently to Demosthenes, and the se- 
verity of his style and expression justifies the compari- 
son. He was assui'edly most like the great models of 
antiquity, and this fact takes him at once out of range 
of the fervors of Continental oratory. Among his 
kindred of England he finds more rivals and greater 
ones : in Chatham and Pitt, Burke, Sheridan, and Fox, 
Canning, Bright, and Gladstone. Fox and Webster 
most nearly resemble each other, for both possessed 
that which in the former was again and again de- 
scribed as a "manly eloquence," Burke was more pro- 
found, more metaphysical, richer, more various, than 
Webster, but no one ever said of Webster what Gold- 
smith did of Burke : — 

" Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, 
And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining." 

Webster, again, was less splendid than Sheridan, but 
many of the glittering sentences of the " Begums " look 
very dim now, and the tinsel of the " greatest speech 
of the age " has tarnished sadly, while Webster's clas- 
sical simplicity is as pure, fresh, and glowing as when 
the words were uttered. There is, however, nothing 
to be gained in hunting comparisons. Webster has 
passed into history as one of the handful of men 
whom the world acknowledges as the great masters of 
eloquence. 



314 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Although before the tribunal o£ public opinion the 
reply to Hayne had given a death-blow to the doctrine 
of nullification, yet the heresy was still to be met as a 
practical question ; and when Jackson took it by the 
throat, Webster, with true patriotism and statesman- 
ship, laid aside his opposition to the President, which 
was deep and abiding on every other subject, and 
stood by the side of the administration in advocacy of 
the force bill. In a similar fashion he resisted Clay's 
compromise. It was not, as Webster firmly believed, 
a question of a tariff, but of the supremacy of law and 
the maintenance of the Union. Modify the tariff, 
and the victory lay with the rebellious State. When 
South Carolina was on her knees and the law enforced 
throughout her borders, then would be the time to 
talk of modifications. Compromise prevailed, but 
Webster had no cause to blame himself for any part 
in the perilous concession. 

Jackson's administration and that of his successor 
cover the most brilliant years of Mr. Webster's life. 
He was then in the full maturity of his powers, fight- 
ing for the Constitution and for sound finance, the 
leader of a new and growing party, wholly in the 
right on the public issues of the day, and acting up to 
his beliefs without fear or reservation. Jackson's 
violent wrenching and twisting of the Constitution af- 
forded constant opportunities for Mr. Webster to 
make great efforts in behalf of that which lay nearest 
his heart, but the absorbing question of all that time 
was of course the bank and the finances. The bank 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 315 

was opposed to Jackson, and so Jackson undertook to 
stuff its offices with his adherents, as he had done in 
all other similar cases. The bank resisted, and then 
the President determined to destroy it. He began by 
vetoing- the bill for its recharter ; but this mode of 
destruction was so slow that, to quicken the work, he 
withdrew the deposits, and determined to manage the 
finances himself. Jackson regulating the finances and 
the currency was like a monkey regulating a watch. 
He simply smashed everything, and then went ovit of 
office, leaving his successor to make the best of it. 
Hampered by Jackson's principles, and coming, more- 
over, much too late to do any good, Mr. Van Buren 
was just in time to meet the financial panic of 1837, 
which spread ruin and disaster over the country. 
From the first Mr. Webster had led the opposition to 
Jackson's mad financiering, and had struck hard and 
telling blows at him and at Mr. Van Buren. He had 
a perfect mastery of the questions at issue and of all 
the intricate financial details, so that while he showed 
what ought to be done he predicted with unerring 
sagacity the exact result of Jackson's course. All 
that he said was read everywhere, and when the crash 
came, his statesmanship and foresight received a start- 
ling vindication. In the campaign, which soon ensued, 
against Mr. Van Buren as a candidate for reelection, 
Mr. Webster stood at the head of the opposition 
forces, and in all parts of the country, with won- 
derful variety and freshness, enforced the doctrines 
which he had always defended, and, pointing to the 



316 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

suffering of the country, denounced the policy by which 
all this misery had been caused. It had been a long 
waiting, but Jackson's outrageous policy and ignorant 
blunders at last had their reward. His party, his 
political heir and successor, and his principles of gov- 
ernment were all overthrown, and buried by the great 
wave of popular disapproval which carried General 
Harrison to the presidency, and placed Webster be- 
side him as secretary of state. 

To enter into a discussion of Mr. Webster's course 
in this new field would be impossible within the limits 
of a necessarily brief essay. His state papers are 
fully worthy of him. They are able, dignified, clear, 
and acute in argument, and show the breadth and 
grasp of mind so characteristic of their author. They 
cover a wide range of topics, and deal with many 
nations, Spain, Portugal, Mexico, and the opening of 
diplomatic relations with China. The great event 
was of course the treaty with England, concluded by 
Lord Ashburton at Washington. That this was the 
work of a statesman, that it was boldly approached 
and as a whole wisely settled, no one now would be 
likely to question. At the time it was made the sub- 
ject of attack, and very recently the injury it inflicted 
ujion Maine has been ably discussed by Mr. Wash- 
burn before the historical society of that State. In 
the Senate, Mr. Benton, in his usual loud-mouthed 
fashion, stormed against it as a complete " surrender," 
while on the other side of the water it was fiercely 
assailed, and was stigmatized by Lord Palmerston as 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 317 

the "Asliburton capitulation." But it must be judged 
as a whole, and if so judged it seems a fair treaty and 
a removal of differences which continually threatened 
war. Its only defect was the failure to provide for the 
northwestern boundary, jvhich soon became trouble- 
some and required fresh negotiations. On the settle- 
ment effected by the treaty, which set at rest questions 
that had endangered the peace of the country for forty 
years, Mr. Webster had fixed his heart. He there- 
fore continued in office after Harrison's death and 
after Mr. Tyler's rupture with the Whig party. This 
course was made the subject of many fierce attacks, 
but no one now mil question that Mr. Webster was 
right in refusing to sacrifice to the strife of party a 
statesmanlike policy which he had undertaken to carry 
through. In his grandest way, with the lofty pride 
which at times so became him, he gave the Whig 
party to understand that he could do without them, 
but that they could not dispense with him ; and before 
long the Whigs came over to his views. 

After leaving the cabinet in 1843, Mr. Webster 
had two years of private and professional life before 
he was again chosen to the Senate. He then came 
back in season for the miserable years of the Mexican 
war, w^ith its schemes of conquest, all of which he op- 
posed steadfastly and vigorously, until at last he was 
brought face to face with the slavery issues, growing 
out of the Mexican and Texan acquisitions. It was 
the great political crisis of 1850. Webster met it in 
the 7th of March speech, and failed. 



318 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

From the Senate, where he was devoting himself to 
the support of Clay's compromise measures, he was 
again called to the department of state, by Mr. Fill- 
more. The only event of his second term of office in 
the cabinet was the famous ^Hiilsemann letter. The 
Chevalier Hiilsemann had written in a very offensive 
manner to Mr. Clayton, Webster's predecessor in the 
department, remonstrating against the official inquiry 
directed by the United States government in regard 
to the Hungarian revolution. The letter merited re- 
buke, and Mr. Webster administered it in a way which 
he himself calls " boastful and rough." Severe, and 
justly so, it certainly was ; but the boastful passage, 
which at the moment so caught the popular fancy, was 
hardly justifiable, in point of taste, in a state paper, 
and was not quite worthy of Mr. Webster. 

In the spring of 1852 the Whig convention assem- 
bled in Baltimore to nominate a candidate for the pres- 
idency. There was in New England, as there had 
been before on similar occasions, a movement in favor 
of Mr. Webster. Mr. Choate, who was at the head of 
Mr. Webster's friends in the convention, went on to 
Washington the day before it met. He found Mr. 
Webster fully possessed with the idea that he should 
be nominated, and that the great office was at last 
within his grasp. So filled was he with this faith that 
Mr. Choate had not the heart to tell him that there 
was no chance, but held his peace, and went back to 
lead the forlorn hope and to watch the prolonged con- 
test which ended in the nomination of General Scott. 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 319 

Even if he had been successful, it is nearly certain 
that Mr. Webster could not have lived much longer. 
As it was, the disappointment fell upon him with 
crushing" effect. He withdrew to Marshfield, hid his 
face from the world, and died. He died proudly, as 
he had lived, but not perhaps without a touch of that 
affectation which Dr. Johnson said came to every man 
at the last hour, and which Webster had himself con- 
demned. To the public he was silent, but he advised 
his intimate friends to vote for Pierce, and told them 
that the Whigs, as a national party, were ended. Mel- 
ancholy words of farewell from a great party chief to 
his trusted friends and followers ! 

The Whig party was indeed at an end, but it was 
wrecked by the compromise measures and the 7th of 
March speech, and not by the nomination of Scott. 
That speech was the supreme trial of Webster's whole 
career, and he failed. Had he but died an hour be- 
fore that chance, it had been for him a blessed time. 
His friends and admirers say that there was nothing 
new, nothing inconsistent with his past utterances, in 
that speech. In a certain sense, so far as opinions 
went, it was consistent. The trouble with the 7th of 
March speech was in the changed tone and attitude of 
the man. In 1832, when Jackson faced South Caro- 
lina, Webster stood close beside him. Then the ques- 
tion turned on a tariff, and Webster said : Let us have 
no compromises until the supremacy of the law is vin- 
dicated beyond doubt or cavil. In 1850 California 
stood with a free constitution in her hand, waiting for 



320 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

admission, and Taylor, like Jackson, no statesman, but 
merely a plain American soldier, said, "• Do your duty ; 
admit California. I hear the threats of Texas ; I see 
the boundary troubles: but admit California, and I 
will settle the boundaries, if need be." Taylor was 
right, as Jackson had been. But this time Webster 
did not stand by the President. He bowed before the 
menaces of the South, and urged a compromise. His 
argument against Taylor's policy proceeded on a futile 
distinction, and upon a dread that display of force by 
the general government meant disunion ; whereas a 
bold, firm attitude on the part of the administration 
would, in fact, have done more for peace and for union 
than any compromise. Compromise meant concession 
to the South, and to that there was no end. In a few 
years the South tore up all compromises ; in a few 
years more they plunged the country into civil war, 
because they lost an election. Vigor and decision 
would have checked the rising mischief in 1850 ; 
weakness and concession simply hastened disunion. 
The northern Whigs ridiculed Webster's dread of se- 
cession, but the dread was well founded. His fault 
lay in meeting the danger, not like a brave man, as in 
1832, but with timidity and comjjromise. 

In 1832 the question was a tariff, in 1850 human 
slavery. Webster had denounced the slave trade at 
Plymouth ; he had opposed early and late the exten- 
sion of slave territory ; he had raised a voice of warn- 
ing and denunciation against the annexation of Texas ; 
he had resisted the acquisition of territory from Mex- 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 321 

ico ; he was opposed to slavery as a system ; he had 
foreseen the magnitude of the abolition agitation when 
others had scoffed at it ; he had felt that it was the 
duty of Southern statesmen to deal with the question ; 
and now he turned about and derided the Wilmot pro- 
viso as an abstraction, sneered at the Free-Soilers as 
fanatics, urged compromise, and supported a new fugi- 
tive slave law with might and main. The Wilmot 
proviso was a declaration of principle, and, on the 
same grounds as Taylor's policy, it shoidd have been 
supported. How could the South ever be brought to 
reason if they always got what they wanted by a suffi- 
ciency of angry threats? Webster's place was at the 
head of the free-soil movement, of the constitutional 
opposition to slavery. He saw, perhaps more plainly 
than any one, the magnitude and the inevitable char- 
acter of that question, and he should have led the 
North in the determined purpose to deal with it and 
settle it in a statesmanlike way. When, instead of 
doing this, he cried out for compromise and conces- 
sion, he seemed to the rising spirit of the North, what 
in fact he was, false to his race, to his past, to his 
principles, to himself. He became In a moment a 
"lost leader." 

" One task more declined, one more footpath untrod." 

His failure when he came to the crucial point was 
complete, and was deplorable and terrible for the very 
reason that he was so great in intellect, so marvelous 
in faculty, so highly gifted, and with a past crowded 
with words and deeds which had become part of the 
21 



322 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

history of his country. The greater the height, the 
worse the fall and the deeper the censure. 

Webster's course in 1850 was due to two motives : 
his love for the Union, and his wish to gain the favor 
of the South, and thereby the presidency. The first 
was noble, even if misguided; the second, and much 
the weaker, was pitiable in such a case and in such a 
man. Webster's love for the Union was in reality 
the key to his whole public career. It appears in his 
boyish letters, warm with youthful fervor ; it burns 
strongly in his latest words. Webster lived during a 
period when the United States were in their first 
youth. The American people had begun to feel, in a 
dim way, but none the less surely, the greatness that 
was in them. They felt it, but others could neither 
see nor understand it. They were, as a nation, young, 
raw, inexperienced, and the consciousness of their 
future and of their unappreciated strength made them 
boastful, sensitive to the opinion of others, and full of 
a rough self-assertion. All this has gone. We know 
now, instead of feeling dimly, and self-assertion has 
become utterly idle, worse than vanity, to an assured 
greatness. Many persons, however, either silent, or 
capable only of crude expression, felt in this way in 
the first half of the present century, and to them came 
Daniel Webster, who saw clearly, instead of dimly, 
and could give fit utterance to all he saw and felt. 
To him the future opened with a dazzling radiance. 
From the height of his own intellect he beheld the 
land which he would never enter, but which we who 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 323 

have come after him are beginning to realize in actual 
possession. He saw the millions who would come 
here, the wealth which would be won, and in the train 
of wealth literature, science, learning, and the arts. 
He saw the help to humanity, the opportunities for 
education and comfort, the elevation of man's condi- 
tion, which would be possible here. He saw the vast 
influence which this country would exert, and the 
great place to which she was destined among the na- 
tions of the earth. All this rested on the Union, and 
union and nationality rested on the Constitution. This 
vision of futurity was the dream, the love, the adora- 
tion, of Webster's life. To this conception, as embod- 
ied in the Union and the Constitution, he poured out 
his soul, as the poet to his mistress. It governed his 
opinion on every question, foreign or domestic, as to 
our jDOsition toward foreign nations, as to internal im- 
provements, and as to all the responsibilities which a 
destiny so lofty should impose. In every speech, 
almost, he brings it in, and gives to it all the poetry 
and imagination of his being. It always inspired him 
to the highest point, and it made even the fatal utter- 
ances of the 7th of March great in eloquence. At 
that supreme moment his courage failed him ; but he 
believed even then that he was taking the surest way 
to preserve the Union and all that was dearest to his 
heart. 

As to the second motive, the desire to obtain the 
presidency, that ambition had been long with him. 
He was pushed forward as a candidate in 1832, and 



324 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the great prize was kept always before his eyes for 
twenty years. In 1852 he believed the time had 
come. It was certainly the last chance, and we can 
hardly wonder at his faith. He was surrounded by 
devoted and admiring friends, who were drawn from 
the ablest, most learned, richest, and most successful 
men in the most highly civilized portions of the coun- 
try. The quality of the admiration blinded him, in- 
creased his pride, and made him impatient of counsel 
or opposition. Yet even in his own party the masses 
were all with Clay. Webster really never had a 
chance for the presidency. The politicians were afraid 
of him, and while he awed and impressed the people 
he did not appeal to their sympathy. - That he did not 
understand this was most natural ; that he was led to 
lower himself by the belief that he might succeed was 
deplorable. Much charity must be extended to a man 
who thinks he can reach the presidency. As Lincoln 
said, in homely phrase, " No oue knows how that worm 
gnaws until he has it ; " and the worm gnawed at 
Webster's heart for twenty years. The North alone 
coidd have made him president, and he came down 
from his high place and bowed to the South, who re- 
ceived him only to throw him aside. In wrath of 
spirit he advised his friends to support the party he 
had always resisted, the party of slavery and seces- 
sion. The waters of bitterness went over him, and 
the sun of his greatness set in clouds. 

In private life Webster had all the qualities which 
make such a man peculiarly attractive. Cold, digni- 



1>ANIEL WEBSTER. 325 

fied, in his later days solemn even, in public and be- 
fore the world, in the midst of his family, or with his 
intimate friends, he unbent completely, pushed politics 
and cares of state aside, and gave rein to talents for 
conversation which corresponded with the richness and 
strength of his mind. Wit, wisdom, anecdote, learn- 
ing, humor, and a boyish fim all mingled in his talk. 
In the field with his farmers, on the shore or on the 
sea, fishing or shooting, with his boatman or with some 
congenial companion, he had a large, unstudied ease 
of manner ; while with the simple country people who 
lived about his home, with his servants or dependents, 
in his letters and in his talk there is a constant flow of 
humor and a pleasant grace which pervades even the 
dry instructions as to the management of the farm. 
In the close intimacy of the family circle these quali- 
ties were displayed in even greater measure, and upon 
all connected with him by ties of blood or friendship 
he poured out the wealth of his affection. He was 
called upon to bear much sorrow. Grief for the death 
of his first wife, the wife of his love and youth, and 
for the loss of his children, stirred to their depths his 
strong emotions, and shook him in a way which we are 
told was terrible to witness. 

It woidd be pleasanter to every one to stop here, 
with his generosity, his fascination of talk and manner, 
and his warm affections, but his admirers and biog- 
raphers, by denial or silence, compel us to glance at 
darker shades of character. It has been considered 
fitting and wise to deal in this way with the notori- 



326 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

oiis fact of Webster's occasional excessive indulgence 
in wine, and with his reputation in respect to the 
other sex, which popular report, at least, stamped as 
far from pure and honest. No one wishes to rake 
among the failings of a great man in these directions, 
and there is very rarely any reason to do so, but it is 
even less fitting to seek to cloak them with silence or 
vain denials. The proper and manly way is to men- 
tion them, admit them if they should be admitted, re- 
gret them, and have done. 

Webster had, however, one grievous failing, which 
cannot be passed over in this way, and which his prin- 
cipal biographer felt called upon to discuss at length, 
as it had been openly assailed in Congress. This was 
his constant acceptance from personal or political 
friends of large gifts of money. At one time it was 
an annuity, at another a few thousands for the ex- 
penses of his table ; private subscriptions to pay his 
debts were at all times painfully common, and, unless 
he is fearfully belied, he would not unfrequently draw 
upon his friends for large sums, which soon after ap- 
peared among the debts to be paid again by subscrip- 
tion. But putting aside everything which is not suscep- 
tible of immediate and absolute proof, when we read 
in the pages of a foreign historian of the acceptance 
of the sum of seven thousand dollars from a Wash- 
ington banker, as a token of admiration for the 7th 
of March speech, and then think who and what Mr. 
Webster was, it makes us shudder. It was not only 
neither delicate nor high-minded, but it was utterly 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 327 

wrong. Mr. Webster made enough money as a lawyer 
to live as became him. If he could not continue in 
public life except as the pensioner of State street, then 
he had no business to be in public life at all ; and the 
decision of the question was with Mr. Webster alone, 
and cannot be foisted off on State street. It is said 
that he was not influenced by these gifts, and this I 
believe to be perfectly true. Mr. Webster's attitude, 
with the modifications of civilization, was that of a 
feudal baron. He protected his supporters' interests 
as the baron did his peasantry, and then levied tribute 
from them. The baron took what he wanted with the 
armed hand. Webster took what he wanted by his 
services, his overshadowing personality, and his great 
intellect, and at a fitting moment acknowledged the 
aid by a magnificent compliment to the donors, indi- 
vidually or collectively. The principle in the two 
cases was about the same. It was rather predatory 
and very wrong and unbecoming, but it was not a 
question of improper influence ; it was simply a stain 
upon the character of a great man. 

When Webster failed, it was a moral failure. 
Moral weakness was the cause of the acceptance of 
money and of the fall of the 7th of March. Intellect- 
ually, he ranks among the greatest men of his race or 
country. His mind was not profoundly original, nor 
did he have that unknown svibtle quality, rarely met 
with among statesmen or lawyers, but to be found in 
poets and artists, which men have agreed to call gen- 
ius. We watch the feats of some superb athlete, and 



328 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

all that he does is impossible to us, far beyond our 
reach ; but we understand how everything is done, and 
what muscles are needed. We observe the perform- 
ances of an Eastern juggler ; we see the results, we 
appreciate the skill, but the secret of the trick escapes 
us. This is true also of mental operations; it is the 
difference between the mind of Shakespeare and that 
of Pitt, a difference, not of degree, but of kind. Web- 
ster belongs to the athletes. We can do nothing but 
admire achievements so far beyond our grasp, and 
gaze with wonder upon a development so powerful, so 
trained, so splendid. But we can understand it all, 
both the mind and its operations. It is intellect 
raised to any power you please, but it is still an intel- 
lect, a form and process with which we are familiar. 
There is none of the baffling sleight of hand, the 
inexplicable intuitions of genius. Webster has been 
accused of appropriating the fruits of other men's la- 
bors to his own uses and glory. This is perfectly idle 
criticism. He had the common quality of greatness, 
a quick perception of the value of suggestions and 
thoughts put forth by other men, and the capacity to 
detect their value and use them ; making them yield 
fruit instead of remaining barren in the hands of the 
discoverer. But after all is said, we come back to the 
simple statement that he was a very great man ; intel- 
lectually, one of the greatest men of his age. He is 
one of the chief figures of our history, and his fame as 
a lawyer, an orator, and a statesman is part of that 
history. There he stands before us, grandly, vividly, 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 329 

with all his glories and all his failings. The upper- 
most thought, as we look at him, is of his devotion to 
the Union, and of the great work which he did in 
strengthening and building up the national sentiment. 
That sentiment, the love of Webster's life, proved 
powerful enough to save the Union in the hour of su- 
preme trial. There is no need, and it would not be 
right, to overlook or to forget his errors and failings, 
all. the more gi'ievous because he was so gifted. Yet 
all men, even those who censure him most severely, 
acknowledge his greatness. But it is not his fame 
which will plead most strongly for him when his faults 
are brought to the bar of history to receive judgment. 
It will be the thought of a united country the ideal of 
his hopes, the inspiration of the noblest efforts of his 
intellect, which will lead men to say, even where they 
condemn, " Forgive him, for he loved much." 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 



Nothing is more interesting than to trace, through 
many years and almost endless wanderings and changes, 
the fortunes of an idea or habit of thought. The sub- 
ject is a much-neglected one, even in these days of 
sweeping and minute investigation, because the inher- 
ent difficulties are so great, and the necessary data so 
multifarious, confused, and sometimes contradictory, 
that absolute proof and smooth presentation seem 
well-nigh impossible. Yet the ideas, the opinions, even 
the prejudices of men, impalpable and indefinite as 
they are, have at times a wonderful vitality and force. 
The conditions under which they have been developed 
may change, or pass utterly away, while they, mere 
shadowy creations of the mind, will endure for gener- 
ations. Long after the world to which it belonged 
has vanished, a habit of thought will live on, indelibly 
imprinted upon a race or nation, like the footprint of 
some extinct beast or bird upon a piece of stone. The 
solemn bigotry of the Spaniard is the fossil trace of 
the fierce struggle of eight hundred years with the 
Moors. The theory of the Lord's day peculiar to the 
English race all over the world is the deeply branded 
sign of the brief reign of Puritanism. A certain fash- 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 331 

ion of thought prevailed half a century ago ; another 
is popular to-day. There is a resemblance between 
the two, the existence of both is recognized, and both, 
without much consideration, are set down as sporadic 
and independent. We have all heard of those rivers 
which are suddenly lost to sight in the bowels of the 
earth, and, coming as suddenly again to the surface, 
flow onward to the sea as before. Or the wandering 
stream may turn aside into fresh fields, and, with new 
shapes and colors, seem to have no connection with the 
waters of its source or with those which finally mingle 
with the ocean. Yet, despite the disappearances and 
the changes, it is always the same river. It is exactly 
so with some kinds of ideas and modes of thought, — 
those that are wholly distinct from the countless host 
of opinions which perish utterly, and are forgotten in 
a few years, or which are still oftener the creatures of 
a day, or an hour, and die by myriads, like the short- 
lived insects whose course is run between sunrise and 
sunset. 

The purpose of this essay is to discuss briefly cer- 
tain opinions which belong to the more enduring class. 
They are sufficiently well known. When they are 
mentioned every one will recognize them, and will ad- 
mit their existence at the particular period to which 
they belong. The point which is overlooked is their 
connection and relationship. They all have the same 
pedigree, a marked resemblance to each other, and 
they derive their descent from a common ancestor. My 
intention is merely to trace "the pedigree and narrate 



332 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the history of this numerous and interesting family of 
ideas and habits of thought. I have entitled them 
collectively " Colonialism in the United States," a de- 
cription which is perhaps more comprehensive than 
satisfactory or exact. 

In the year of grace 1776, we published to the world 
our Declaration of Independence. Six years later, 
England assented to the separation. These are toler- 
ably familiar facts. That we have been striving ever 
since to make that independence real and complete, 
and that the work is not yet entirely finished, are not, 
perhaps, equally obvious truisms. The hard fighting 
by which we severed our connection with the mother- 
country was in many ways the least difficult part of 
the work of building up a great and independent na- 
tion. The decision of the sword may be rude, but it 
is pretty sure to be speedy. Armed revolution is 
quick, A South American, in the exercise of his con- 
stitutional privileges, will rush into the street and de- 
clare a revolution in five minutes. A Frenchman will 
pull down one government to-day, and set up another 
to-morrow, besides giving new names to all the prin- 
cipal streets of Paris during the intervening night. 
We English-speaking people do not move quite so 
fast. We come more slowly to the boiling point ; we 
are not fond of violent changes, and when we make 
them we consume a considerable time in the operation. 
Still, at the best, a revolution by force of arms is an 
affair of a few years. We broke with England in 
1776, we had won our victory in 1782, and by the 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 333 

year 1789 we had a new national government fairly- 
started. 

But if we are slower than other people in the con- 
duct of revolutions, owing largely to our love of dogged 
fighting and inability to recognize defeat, we are infi- 
nitely more deliberate than our neighbors in altering, 
or even modifying, our ideas and modes of thought. 
The slow mind and ingrained conservatism of the Eng- 
lish race are the chief causes of their marvelous po- 
litical and material success. After much obstinate 
fighting in the field, they have carried through the few 
revolutions which they have seen fit to engage in ; but 
when they have undertaken to extend these revolutions 
to the domain of thought, there has arisen a spirit of 
stubborn and elusive resistance, which has seemed to 
set every effort, and even time itself, at defiance. 

By the treaty of Paris our independence was ac- 
knowledged, and in name and theory was complete. 
We then entered upon the second stage In the conflict, 
that of ideas and opinions. True to our race and to 
our instincts, and with a wisdom which is one of the 
glories of our history, we carefully preserved the prin- 
ciples and forms of government and law, which traced 
an unbroken descent and growth from the days of the 
Saxon invasion. But while we kept so much that was 
of inestimable worth, we also retained, inevitably, of 
course, something which it would have been well for 
us to have shaken off together with the rule of George 
III. and the British Parliament. This was the colon- 
ial spirit in our modes of thought. 



334 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

The word " colonial " is preferable to the more ob- 
vious word " provincial," because the former is abso- 
lute, while the latter, by usage, has become in a great 
measure relative. We are very apt to call an opinion, 
a custom, or a neighbor " provincial," because we do 
not like the person or thing in question ; and in this 
way the true value of the word has of late been frit- 
tered away. " Colonialism," moreover, has in this con- 
nection historical point and value, while " j)rovincial- 
ism " is general and meaningless. Colonialism is also 
susceptible of accurate definition. A colony is an off- 
shoot from a parent stock, and its chief characteristic 
is dependence. In exact proportion as dependence 
lessens, the colony changes its nature and advances 
toward national existence. For a hundred and fifty 
years we were English colonies. Just before the rev- 
olution, in everything but the affairs of practical gov- 
ernment, the precise point at which the break came, 
we were still colonies in the fullest sense of the term. 
Except in matters of food and drink, and of the wealth 
which we won from the soil and the ocean, we were in 
a state of complete material and intellectual depend- 
ence. Every luxury, and almost every manufactured 
article, came to us across the water. Our politics, ex- 
cept those which were purely local, were the politics 
of England, and so also were our foreign relations. 
Our books, our art, our authors, our commerce, were 
all English ; and this was true of our colleges, our pro- 
fessions, our learning, our fashions, and our manners. 
There is no need here to go into the details which show 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 335 

the absolute supremacy of the colonial spirit and our 
entire intellectual dependence. When we sought to 
originate, we simply imitated. The conditions of our 
life could not be overcome. 

The imiversal prevalence of the colonial spirit at 
that period is shown most strongly by one great excep- 
tion, just as the flash of lightning makes us realize the 
intense darkness of a thunder-storm at night. In the 
midst of the provincial and barren waste of our in- 
tellectual existence in the eighteenth century there 
stands out in sharp relief the luminous genius of 
Franklin. It is true that Franklin was cosmopolitan 
in thought, that his name and fame and achievements 
in science and literature belonged to mankind ; but 
he was all this because he was genuinely and intensely 
American. His audacity, his fertility, his adaptabil- 
ity, are all characteristic of America, and not of an 
English colony. He moved with an easy and assured 
step, with a poise and balance which nothing could 
shake, among the great men of the world ; he stood 
before kings and princes and courtiers, unmoved and 
unawed. He was strongly averse to breaking with 
England ; but when the war came he was the one man 
who could go forth and represent to Europe the new 
nationality without a touch of the colonist about him. 
He met them all, great ministers and great sovereigns, 
on a common ground, as if the colonies of yesterday 
had been an independent nation for generations. His 
autobiography is the corner-stone, the first great work 
of American literature. The plain, direct style, al- 



336 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

most worthy of Swift, the homely, forcible language, 
the humor, the observation, the knowledge of men, the 
worldly philosophy of that remarkable book, are famil- 
iar to all ; but its best and, considering its date, its 
most extraordinary quality is its perfect originality. 
It is American in feeling, without any taint of English 
colonialism. Look at Franklin in the midst of that 
excellent Peunsylvanian community ; compare him and 
his genius with his surroimdings, and you get a better 
idea of what the colonial sj)irit was in America in 
those days, and how thoroughly men were saturated 
with it, than in any other way. 

In general terms it may be said that, outside of 
politics and the still latent democratic tendencies, the 
entire intellectual life of the colonists was drawn from 
England, and that to the mother country they looked 
for everything pertaining to the domain of thought. 
The colonists in the eighteenth century had, in a word, 
a thorouglily and deeply rooted habit of mental de- 
pendence. The manner in which we have gradually 
shaken off this dependence, retaining of the past only 
that which is good, constitutes the history of the de- 
cline of the colonial spirit in the United States. As 
this spirit existed everywhere at the outset, and 
brooded over the whole realm of intellect, we can in 
most cases trace its history best in the recurring and 
successful revolts against it, which, breaking out now 
here, now there, have at last brought it so near to final 
extinction. 

In 1789, after the seven years of disorder and de- 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 337 

moralization which followed the close of the war, the 
United States government was established. Every 
visible political tie which bound us to England had 
been severed, and we were apparently entirely inde- 
pendent. But the shackles of the colonial spirity»-^ 
which had been forging and welding for a century and 
a half, were still heavy upon us, and fettered all our 
mental action. The work of making our independ- 
ence real and genuine was but half done, and the 
first struggle of the new national spirit with that of 
the colonial past was in the field of politics, and con- 
sumed twenty-five years before victory was finally ob- 
tained. We still felt that our fortunes were inex- 
tricably interwoven with those of Eiu'ope. We could 
not realize that what affected us nearly when we were 
a part of the British Empire no longer touched us as 
an independent nation. We can best understand how 
strong this feeling was by the effect which was pro- 
duced here by the French revolution. That tremen- 
dous convulsion, it may be said, was necessarily felt 
everywhere ; but one much greater might take place 
in Europe to-day without producing here anything at 
all resembling the excitement of 1790. We had al- 
ready achieved far more than the French revolution 
ever accomplished. We had gone much farther on 
the democratic road than any other nation. Yet 
worthy men in the United States put on cockades and 
liberty caps, erected trees of liberty, called each other 
" Citizen Brown " and " Citizen Smith," drank con- 
fusion to tyrants, and sang the wild songs of Paris. 

22 



338 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

All this was done in a country where every privilege 
and artificial distinction had been swept away, and 
where the government was the creation of the people 
themselves. These ravings and symbols had a terrific 
reality in Paris and in Europe, and so, like colonists, 
we felt that they must have a meaning to us, and that 
the fate and fortunes of our ally were our fate and 
fortunes. A part of the people engaged in an imita- 
tion that became here the shallowest nonsense, while 
the other portion of the community, which was hostile 
to French ideas, took up and propagated the notion 
that the welfare of civilized society lay with England 
and with English opinions. Thus we had two great 
parties in the United States, working themselves up 
to white heat over the politics of England and France. 
The first heavy blow to the influence of foreign poli- 
tics was Washing-ton's proclamation of neutrality. It 
seems a very simple and obvious thing now, this policy 
of non-interference in the affairs of Europe which that 
proclamation inaugurated, and yet at the time men 
marveled at the step, and thought it very strange. 
Parties divided over it. People could not conceive 
how we could keep clear of the great stream of Eu- 
ropean events. One side disliked the proclamation as 
hostile to France, while the other approved it for the 
same reason. Even the Secretary of State, Thomas 
Jefferson, one of the most representative men of 
American democracy, resisted the neutrality policy in 
the genuine spirit of the colonist. Yet Washington's 
proclamation was simply the sequel to the Declaration 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 339 

of Independence. It merely amounted to saying-, We 
have created a new nation, and England not only can- 
not govern us, but English and European politics are 
none of our business, and we propose to be independ- 
ent of them and not meddle in them. The neutral- 
ity policy of Washington's administration was a great 
advance toward independence and a severe blow to 
colonialism in politics. Washington himself exerted 
a powerful influence against tlie colonial spirit. The 
principle of nationality, then just entering upon its 
long struggle with state's rights, was in its very nature 
hostile to everything colonial; and Washington, de- 
spite his Virginian traditions, was thoroughly imbued 
with the national spirit. He believed himself, and 
insensibly impressed his belief upon the people, that 
true nationality could only be obtained by keeping 
om'selves aloof from the conflicts and the politics of 
the Old World. Then, too, his splendid personal 
dignity, which still holds us silent and respectful after 
the lapse of a hundred years, communicated itself to 
his office, and thence to the nation of which he was the 
representative. The colonial spirit withered away in 
the presence of Washington. 

The only thorough-going nationalist among the lead- 
ers of that time was Alexander Hamilton. He was not '^ 
born in the States, and was therefore free from all lo- 
cal influences ; and he was by nature imperious in tem- 
per and imperial in his views. The guiding principle 
of that great man's public career was the advancement 
of American nationality. He was called " British " 



340 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Hamilton by the very men who wished to throw us 
into the arms of the French republic, because he was 
wedded to the principles and the forms of constitutional 
English government and sought to preserve them here 
adapted to new conditions. He desired to put our po- 
litical inheritance to its proper use, but this was as far 
removed from the colonial spirit as possible. Instead 
of being " British," Hamilton's intense eagerness for 
a strong national government made him the deadliest 
foe of the colonial spirit, which he did more to strangle 
and crush out than any other man of his time. The 
objects at which he aimed were continental supremacy, 
and complete independence in business, politics, and 
industry. In all these departments he saw the belit- 
tling effects of dependence, and so he assailed it by his 
reports and by his whole policy, foreign and domestic. 
So much of his work as he carried through had a far- 
reaching effect, and did a great deal to weaken the 
colonial spirit. But the strength of that spirit was 
best shown in the hostility or indifference which was 
displayed toward his projects. The great cause of op- 
position to Hamilton's financial policy proceeded, un- 
doubtedly, from state jealousy of the central govern- 
ment ; but the resistance to his foreign policy arose 
from the colonial ignorance which could not under- 
stand the real jjurpose of neutrality, and which thought 
that Hamilton was simply and stupidly endeavoring to 
force us toward England as against France. 

Washington, Hamilton, and John Adams, notwith- 
standing his New England prejudices, all did much 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 341 

while they were in power, as the heads of the Federal- 
ist party, to cherish and increase national seK-respect, 
and thereby eradicate colonialism from our politics. 
The lull in Europe, after the fall of the Federalists, led 
to a truce in the contests over foreign affairs in the 
United States, but with the renewal of war the old 
conflict broke out. The years from 1806 to 1812 are 
among the least creditable in our history. The Feder- 
alists ceased to be a national party and the fierce reac- 
tion against the French revolution drove them into 
an unreasoning admiration of England. They looked 
to England for the salvation of civilized society. Their- 
chief interest centred in English politics, and the re- 
sources of England formed the subject of their thoughts 
and studies, and furnished the theme of conversation 
at their dinner tables. It was just as bad on the other 
side. The Eepublicans still clung to their affection for 
France, notwithstanding the despotism of the empire. 
They regarded Napoleon with reverential awe, and 
shivered at the idea of plunging into hostilities with 
any one. The foreign policy of Jefferson was that of 
a thorough colonist. He shrank with horror from war. 
He would have had us confine ourselves to agriculture, 
and to our flocks and herds, because our commerce, 
the commerce of a nation, was something with which 
other powers were likely to interfere. He wished us 
to exist in a state of complete commercial and indus- 
trial dependence, and allow England to carry for us 
and manufacture for us, as she did when we were col- 
onies weighed down by the clauses of the navigation 



342 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

acts. His plans of resistance did not extend beyond 
the old colonial scheme of non-importation and non- 
intercourse agreements. Read the bitter debates in 
Congress of those years, and you find them filled with 
nothing but the politics of other nations. All the talk 
is saturated with colonial feeling. Even the names of 
opprobrium which the hostile parties applied to each 
other were borrowed. Tlie Republicans called the Fed- 
eralists "' Tories " and a " British faction," while the 
Federalists retorted by stigmatizing their opponents as 
Jacobins. During these sorry years, however, the last 
in which our politics bore the colonial character, a new 
party was growing up, which may be called the na- 
tional party, not as distinguished from the party of 
state's rights, but as the opposition to colonial ideas. 
.This new movement was headed and rendered illustri- 
ous by such men as Henry Clay, John Quincy Adams, 
the brilliant group from South Carolina, comprising 
Calhoun, Langdon Cheves, and William Lowndes, and 
at a later period by Daniel Webster. Clay and the 
South Carolinians were the first to push forward the 
resistance to colonialism. Their policy was crude and 
ill-defined. They struck out blindly against the evil 
influence which, as they felt, was choking the current 
of national life, but they were convinced that, to be 
truly independent, the United States must fight some- 
body. Who that somebody should be was a second- 
ary question. Of all the nations which had been kick- 
ing and cuffing us, England was, on the whole, the 
most arrogant, and offensive ; and so the young na- 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 343 

tionalists dragged the country into the war of 1812. 
We were wonderfully successful at sea and at New 
Orleans, but in other respects this war was neither 
very prosperous nor very creditable, and the treaty of 
Ghent was absolutely silent as to the objects for which 
we had expressly declared war. Nevertheless, the real 
purpose of the war was gained, despite the silent and 
almost meaningless treaty which concluded it. We 
had proved to the world and to ourselves that we ex- 
isted as a nation. We had demonstrated the fact that 
we had ceased to be colonies. We had torn up colo- 
nialism in our public affairs by the roots, and we had 
crushed out the colonial spirit in our politics. After 
the war of 1812 our politics might be good, bad, or in- 
different, but they were our own politics, and not those 
of Europe. The wretched colonial spirit which had 
belittled and warped them for twenty-five years had 
perished utterly, and with the treaty of Ghent it was 
buried so deeply that not even its ghost has since then 
crossed our political pathway. 

Besides being the field where the first battle with the 
colonial spirit was fought out, politics then offered al- 
most the only intellectual interest of the country, out- 
side of commerce, which was still largely dependent in 
character, and very different in its scope from the 
great mercantile combinations of to-day. Religious 
controversy was of the past, and except in New Eng- 
land, where the liberal revolt against Calvinism was in 
progress, there was no great interest in theological 
questions. When the Constitution went into operation 



344 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the professions of law and medicine were in their in- 
fancy. There was no literature, no art, no science, 
none of the miUtifarious interests which now divide 
and absorb the intellectual energies of the community. 
In the quarter of a century which closed with the 
treaty of Ghent we can trace the development of the 
legal and medical professions, and their advance to- 
wards independence and originality. But in the liter- 
ary efforts of the time we see the colonial spirit dis- 
played more strongly than anywhere else, and in 
apparently undiminished vigor. 

Our first literature was political, and sprang from 
the discussions incident to the adoption of the Consti- 
tution. It was, however, devoted to our own affairs, 
and aimed at the foundation of a nation, and was there- 
fore fresh, vigorous, often learned, and thoroughly 
American in tone. Its masterpiece was the " Feder- 
alist," which marks an era in the history of constitu- 
tional discussion, and which was the conception of the 
thoroughly national mind of Hamilton. After the 
new government was established, our political writ- 
ings, like our politics, drifted back to provincialism of 
thought, and were absorbed in the affairs of Eurojie ; 
but the first advance on the road to literary independ- 
ence was made by the early literatiu-e of the Consti- 
tution. 

It is to this period also, which covers the years from 
1789 to 1815, that Washington Irving, the first of our 
great writers, belongs. This is not the place to enter 
into an analysis of Irving's genius, but it may be f aiily 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 345 

said that while in feeling he was a thorough Ameri- 
can, in literature he was a cosmopolitan. His easy 
style, the tinge of romance, and the mingling of the 
story-teller and the antiquarian remind us of his great 
contemporary, Walter Scott. In his quiet humor and 
gentle satire, we taste the flavor of Addison. In the 
charmino^ leo-ends with which he has consecrated the 
beauties of the Hudson River valley, and thrown over 
that beautiful region the warm light of his imagina- 
tion, we find the genuine love of country and of home. 
In like manner we perceive his historical taste and his 
patriotism in the last work of his life, the biography of 
his great namesake. But he wrought as well with the 
romance of Spain and of England. He was too great 
to be colonial ; he did not find enough food for his 
imagination in the America of that day to be thor- 
oughly American. He stands apart, a great gift from 
America to English literature, but not a type of 
American literature itself. He had imitators and 
friends, whom it has been the fashion to call a school, 
but he founded no school, and died as he had lived, 
alone. He broke through the narrow trammels of 
colonialism himself, but the colonial spirit hung just 
as heavily upon the feeble literature about him. 

In that same period there flourished another literary 
man, who was far removed in every way from the brill- 
iant editor of Diedrich Knickerbocker, but who illus- 
trated by his struggle with colonialism the strength of 
that influence far better than Irving, who soared so 
easily above it. Noah Webster, poor, sturdy, inde- 



346 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

pendent, with a rude but surprising knowledge of 
philology, revolted in every nerve and fibre of his be- 
ing against the enervating influence of the colonial 
past. The spirit of nationality had entered into his 
soul. He felt that the nation which he saw growing 
up about him was too great to take its orthography or 
its pronunciation blindly and obediently from the 
mother land. It was a new country and a new na- 
tion, and Webster determined that so far as in him 
lay it should have linguistic independence. It was an 
odd idea, but it came from his heart, and his national 
feeling found natural expression in the study of lan- 
guage, to which he devoted his life. He went into 
open rebellion against British tradition. He was 
snubbed, laughed at, and abused. He was regarded 
as little better than a madman to dare to set himself 
up against Johnson and his successors. But the hard- 
headed New Englander pressed on, and finally brought 
out his dictionary, — a great work, which has fitly 
preserved his name. His knowledge was crude, his 
general theory mistaken ; his system of changes has 
not stood the test of time, and was in itself contradic- 
tory; but the stubborn battle which he fought for 
literary independence and the hard blows he struck 
should never be forgotten, while the odds against 
which he contended and the opposition he aroused are 
admirable illustrations of the overpowering influence 
of the colonial spirit in our early literature. 

What the state of our literature was, what the feel- 
ings of our few literary men, and what the spirit with 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 347 

which Webster did battle, all come out in a few lines 
written by an English poet. We can see everything 
as by a sudden flash of light, and we do not need to 
look farther to understand the condition of American 
literature in the early years of the century. In the 
waste of barbarism called the United States, the only 
oasis discovered by the delicate sensibilities of Mr. 
Thomas Moore was in the society of Mr. Joseph Den- 
nie, a clever editor and essayist, and his little circle of 
friends in Philadelphia. The lines commonly quoted 
in this connection are those in the epistle to Spencer, 
beginning, — 

"Yet, yet, forgive me, O ye sacred few. 
Whom late by Delaware's green banks I knew ; " 

which describe the poet's feelings toward America, 
and his delight in the society of Mr. Dennie and his 
friends. But the feelings and opinions of Moore are 
of no moment. The really important passage de- 
scribes not the author, but what Dennie and his com- 
panions said and thought, and has in this way histori- 
cal if not poetic value. The lines occur among those 
addressed to the " Boston frigate " when the author 
was leaving Halifax : — 

" Farewell to the few I have left with regret ; 
May they sometimes recall, what I cannot forget, 
The delight of those evenings, — too brief a delight, 
When in converse and song we have stol'n on the night ; 
When they 've asked me the manners, the muid, or the mien, 
Of some bard I had known or some chief I had seen. 
Whose glory, though distant, they long had adored, 



348 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Whose name had oft hallowed the wine-cup they poured. 

And still, as with sympathy humble but true 

I have told of each bright son of fame all I knew, 

They have listened, and sighed that the powerful stream 

Of America's empire should pass like a dream, 

Without leaving one relic of genius, to say 

How sublime was the tide which had vanished away ! " 

The evils appreliended by these excellent gentlemen 
are much more strongly set forth in the previous epis- 
tle, but here we catch sight of the men themselves. 
There they sit adoring Englishmen, and eagerly in- 
quiring about them of the gracious Mr. Moore, while 
they are dolefully sighing that the empire of America 
is to pass away and leave no relic of genius. In their 
small way they were doing what they could toward 
such a consummation. It may be said that this frame 
of mind was perfectly natural under the circumstances ; 
but it is not to the purpose to inquire into causes 
and motives ; it is enough to state the fact. Here 
was a set of men of more than average talents and 
education ; not geniuses, like Irving, but clever men, 
forming one of the two or three small groups of lit- 
erary persons in the United States. They come be- 
fore us as true provincials, steeped to the eyes in colo- 
nialism, and they fairly represent the condition of 
American literature at that time. They were slaves 
to the colonial spirit, which bowed before England and 
- Europe. They have not left a name or a line which 
is remembered or read, except to serve as a historical 
illustration, and they will ultimately find their fit rest- 
ing-place in the foot-notes of the historian. 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 349 

With the close of the English war the United States 
entered upon the second stage of their development. 
The new era, which began in 1815, lasted until 1861. 
It was a period of growth, not simply in the direction 
of a vast material prosperity and a rapidly increasing 
' population, but in national sentiment, which made 
itself felt everywhere. Wherever we turn during 
those years, we discover a steady decline of the colo- 
nial influence. Politics had become wholly national 
and independent. The law was illustrated by great 
names, which take high rank in the annals of English 
jurisprudence. Medicine began to have its schools, 
and to show practitioners who no longer looked across 
the sea for inspiration. The Monroe doctrine bore 
witness to the strong foreign policy of an independent 
people. The tariff gave evidence of the eager desire 
for industrial independence, which found practical ex- 
pression in the fast -growing native manufactures. 
Internal improvements were a sign of the general faith 
and interest in the development of the national re- 
sources. The rapid multiplication of inventions re- 
sulted from the natural genius of America in that 
important field, where it took almost at once a leading 
place. Science began to have a home at our seats of 
learning, and in the land of Franklin found a conge- 
nial soil. 

But the colonial spirit, cast out from our politics 
and fast disappearing from business and the profes- 
sions, still clung closely to literature, which must al- 
ways be the best and last expression of a national 



350 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

mode of thought. In the admirable "Life of Cooper," 
recently published, by Professor Lounsbury, the con- 
dition of our literature in 1820 is described so vividly 
and so exactly that it cannot be improved. It is as 
follows : — 

" The intellectual dependence of America upon 
England at that period is something that it is now 
hard to understand. Political supremacy had been 
cast off, but the supremacy of opinion remained ab- 
solutely luishaken. Of creative literature there was 
then very little of any value produced ; and to that 
little a foreign stamp was necessary, to give currency 
outside of the petty circle in which it originated. 
There was slight encouragement for the author to 
write ; there was still less for the publisher to print. 
It was, indeed, a positive injury, ordinarily, to the 
commercial credit of a bookseller to bring out a vol- 
ume of poetry or of prose fiction which had been writ- 
ten by an American ; for it was almost certain to 
fail to pay expenses. A sort of critical literature was 
struggling, or rather gasping, for a life that was 
hardly worth living ; for its most marked characteris- 
tic was its servile deference to English judgment and 
dread of English censure. It requires a painful and 
penitential examination of the reviews of the period 
to comprehend the utter abasement of mind with 
which the men of that day accepted the foreign esti- 
mate upon works written here, which had been read 
by themselves, but which it was clear had not been 
read by the critics whose opinions they echoed. Even 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 351 

the meekness with which they submitted to the most 
dei^reciatory estimate of themselves was outdone by 
the anxiety with which they hurried to assure the 
world that they, the most cultivated of the American 
race, did not presume to have so high an opinion of 
the writings of some one of their countrymen as had 
been expressed by enthusiasts, whose patriotism had 
proved too much for their discernment. Never was 
any class so eager to free itself from charges that im- 
puted to it the presumption of holding independent 
views of its own. Out of the intellectual character of 
many of those who at that day pretended to be the 
representatives of the highest education in this coun- 
try, it almost seemed that the element of manliness 
had been wholly eliminated ; and that, along with its 
sturdy democracy, whom no obstacles thwarted and no 
dangers daunted, the New World was also to give 
birth to a race of literary cowards and parasites." 

The case is vigorously stated, but is not at all over- 
charged. Far stronger, indeed, than Professor Louns- 
bury's statement is the commentary furnished by Coo- 
per's first book. This novel, now utterly forgotten, was 
entitled " Precaution." Its scene was laid wholly in 
England ; its characters were drawn from English so- 
ciety, chiefly from the aristocracy of that favored land ; 
its conventional phrases were aU English ; worst and 
most extraordinary of all, it professed to be by an 
English author, and was received on that theory with- 
out suspicion. In such a guise did the most popular 
of American novelists and one of the most eminent 



352 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

among modern writers of fiction first appear before 
liis countrymen and the world. If this were not so 
pitiable, it would be utterly ludicrous and yet the 
most melancholy feature of the case is that Cooper 
was not in the least to blame, and no one found fault 
with him, for his action was regarded by every one as 
a matter of course. In other words, the first step of an 
American entering upon a literary career was to pre- 
tend to be an Englishman, in order that he might win 
the approval, not of Englishmen, but of his own coun- 
trymen. 

If this preposterous state of public opinion had 
been a mere passing fashion it would hardly be worth 
recording. But it represented a fixed and settled 
habit of mind, and is only one example of a long- 
series of similar phenomena. We look back to the 
years preceding the revolution, and there we find 
this mental condition flourishing and strong. At that 
time it hardly calls for comment, because it was so 
perfectly natural. It is when we find such opinions 
existing in the year 1820 that we are conscious of 
their significance. They belong to colonists, and yet 
they are uttered by the citizens of a great and inde- 
pendent state. The sorriest part of it is that these 
views were chiefly held by the best educated jJortion 
of the community. The great body of the American 
people, who had cast out the colonial spirit from their 
politics and their business, and were fast destroying it 
in the professions, was sound and true. The parasitic 
literature of that day makes the boastful and rhetorical 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 353 

patriotism then iu the exuberance of youth seem ac- 
tually noble and fine, because, with all its faults, it was 
honest, genuine, and inspired by a real love of country. 
Yet it was during this period, between the years 
1815 and 1861, that we began to have a literature of 
our own, and one which any people could take pride 
in. Cooper himself was the pioneer. In his second 
novel, " The Spy," he threw off the wretched spirit of 
the colonist, and the story, which at once gained a 
popularity that broke down all barriers, was read 
everywhere with delight and approbation. The chief 
cause of the difference between the fate of this novel 
and that of its predecessor lies in the fact that " The 
Spy " was of genuine native origin. Cooper knew 
and loved American scenery and life. He understood 
certain phases of American character on the prairie 
and the ocean, and his genius was no longer smothered 
by the dead colonialism of the past. " The Spy," and 
those of Cooper's novels which belong to the same 
class, have lived and will live, and certain American 
characters which he drew will likewise endure. He 
might have struggled all his life in the limbo of intel- 
lectual servitude to which Moore's friends consigned 
themselves, and no one would have cared for him 
then or remembered him now. But, with all his foi- 
bles. Cooper was inspired by an intense patriotism, 
and he had a bold, vigorous, aggressive nature. He 
freed his talents at a stroke, and giving them full play 
attained at once a world-wide reputation, which no 
man of colonial mind could ever have dreamed of 

23 



354 " STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

reaching. Yet Lis countrymen, long before his days 
of strife and unjDopularity, seem to have taken singu- 
larly little patriotic pride in his achievements, and the 
well bred and well educated shuddered to hear him 
called the " American Scott ; " not because they 
thought the ej)ithet inappropriate and misapplied, but 
because it was a piece of irreverent audacity toward 
a great light of English literature. 

Cooper was the first, after the close of the war of 
1812, to cast off the colonial spirit and take up his po- 
sition as a representative of genuine American litera- 
ture ; but he soon had companions, who carried still 
higher the standard which he had raised. To this pe- 
riod, which closed with our civil war, belong many of 
the names which are to-day among those most cher- 
ished by English-sj)eaking people everywhere. We 
see the national spirit in Longfellow turning from the 
themes of the Old World to those of the New. In the 
beautiful creations of the sensitive and delicate imag- 
ination of Hawthorne, the greatest genius America 
has yet produced, there was a new tone and a rich 
originality, and the same influence may be detected 
in the wild fancies of Poe. We find a like native 
strength in the sparkling verses of Holmes, in the 
pure and gentle poetry of Whittier, and in the firm, 
vigorous work of Lowell. A new leader of independ- 
ent thought arises in Emerson, destined to achieve a 
X world-wide reputation. A new school of historians 
appears, adorned by the talents of Prescott, Bancroft, 
and Motley. Many of these distinguished men were 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 355 

far removed in point of time from the beginning of 
the new era, but they all belonged to and were the 
result of the national movement, which began its 
onward march as soon as we had shaken ourselves 
clear from the influence of the colonial spirit upon 
our public affairs by the struggle which culminated 
in " Mr. Madison's war," as the Federalists loved to 
call it. 

These successes in the various departments of intel- 
lectual activity were all due to an instinctive revolt 
against colonialism. But, nevertheless, the old and 
time-worn spirit which made Cooper pretend to be an 
Englishman in 1820 was very strong, and continued 
to impede our progress toward intellectual independ- 
ence. We find it clinging to the lesser and weaker 
forms of literature. We see it in fashion and society 
and in habits of thought, but we find the best proof 
of its vitality in our sensitiveness to foreign opinion. 
This was a universal failing. The body of the peo- 
ple showed it by bitter resentment ; the cultivated and 
highly educated by abject submission and deprecation, 
or by cries of pain. 

As was natural in a very young nation, just awak- 
ened to its future destiny, just conscious of its still 
undeveloped strength, there was at this time a vast 
amoimt of exuberant self-satisfaction, of cheap rhet- 
oric, and of noisy self-glorification. There was a cor- 
responding readiness to take offense at the unfavor- 
able opinion of outsiders, and at the same time an 
eager and insatiable curiosity to hear foreign opinions 



356 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

of any kind. We were, of course, very open to satire 
and attack. We were young, undeveloped, with a 
crude, almost raw civilization, and a great inclination 
to be boastful and conceited. Our English cousins, 
who had failed to conquer us, bore us no good will, 
and were quite ready to take all the revenge which 
books of travel and criticism could afford. It is to 
these years that Marryat, Trollope, Hamilton, Dick- 
ens, and a host of others belong. Most of their pro- 
ductions are quite forgotten now. The only ones 
which are still read, probably, are the "American 
Notes " and " Martin Chuzzlewit : " the former pre- 
served by the fame of the author, the latter by its own 
merit as a novel. There was abundant truth in what 
Dickens said, to take the great novelist as the type of 
this group of foreign critics. It was an age in which 
Elijah Pogram and Jefferson Brick flourished rankly. 
It is also true that all that Dickens wrote was poi- 
soned by his utter ingratitude, and that to describe the 
United States as populated by nothing but Bricks and 
Pograms was one-sided and malicious, and not true to 
facts. But the truth or the falsehood, the value or 
the worthlessness, of these criticisms are not of im- 
portance now. The striking fact, and the one we are 
in search of, is the manner in which we bore these 
censures when they appeared. We can appreciate 
contemporary feeling at that time only by delving in 
much forgotten literature ; and even then we can 
hardly comprehend fully what we find, so completely 
has our habit of mind altered since those days. We 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 357 

received these strictures with a howl of anguish and a 
scream of mortified vanity. We winced and writhed, 
and were ahuost ready to go to war, because English 
travelers and writers abused us. It is usual now to 
refer these ebullitions of feeling to our youth, probably 
from analogy with the youth of an individual. But 
the analogy is misleading. Sensitiveness to foreign 
opinion is not especially characteristic of a youthful 
nation, or, at least, we have no cases to prove it, and 
in the absence of proof the theory falls. On the other 
hand, this excessive and almost morbid sensibility is 
a characteristic of provincial, colonial, or dependent 
states, especially in regard to the mother country. 
We raged and cried out against adverse English criti- 
cism, whether it was true or false, just or unjust, and 
we paid it this unnatural attention because the spirit 
of the colonist still lurked in om' hearts and affected 
our mode of thought. We were advancing fast on 
the road to intellectual and moral independence, but 
we were still far from the goal. 

This second period in our history closed, as has been 
said, with the struggle generated by a great moral 
question, which finally absorbed all the thoughts and 
passions of the people, and culminated in a terrible 
civil war. We fought to preserve the integrity of the 
Union ; we fought for our national life, and national- 
ity prevailed. The grandeur of the conflict, the dread- 
ful suffering which it caused for the sake of principle, 
the uprising of a great people, elevated and ennobled 
the whole country. The flood-gates were opened, and 



358 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

the tremendous tide of national feeling swept away 
every meaner emotion. We came out of the battle, 
after an experience which brought a sudden maturity 
with it, stronger than ever, but much graver and so- 
berer than before. We came out self-poised and self- 
reliant, with a true sense of dignity and of our na- 
tional greatness, which years of peaceful development 
could not have given us. The sensitiveness to foreign 
opinion which had been the marked feature of our 
mental condition before the war had disappeared. It 
had vanished in the smoke of battle, as the colonial 
spirit disappeared from our politics in the war of 
1812. Englishmen and Frenchmen have come and 
gone, and written their impressions of us, and made 
little splashes in the current of every-day topics, and 
have been forgotten. Just now it is the fashion for 
every Englishman who visits this country, particularly 
if he is a man of any note, to go home and tell the 
world what he thinks of us. Some of these writers 
do this without taking the trouble to come here first. 
Sometimes we read what they have to say out of curi- 
osity. We accept what is true, whether unpalatable or 
not, philosophically, and smile at what is false. The 
general feeling is one of wholesome indifference. We 
no longer see salvation and happiness in favorable 
foreign opinion, or misery in the reverse. The colo- 
nial spirit in this direction also is practically extinct. 

But while this is true of the mass of the American 
people whose mental health is good, and is also triie of 
the great body of sound public opinion in the United 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 359 

States, it has some marked exceptions ; and these ex- 
ceptions constitute the lingering remains o£ the colo- 
nial spii'it, which survives, and shows itself here and 
there even at the present day, with a strange vitality. 
In the years which followed the close of the war, it 
seemed as if colonialism had heen utterly extinguished ; 
but, unfortunately, this was not the case. The multi- 
plication of great fortunes, the growth of a class rich 
by inheritance, and the improvement in methods of 
travel and communication, all tended to carry large 
numbers of Americans to Europe. The luxurious 
fancies which were born of increased wealth, and the 
intellectual tastes which were develoj)ed by the ad- 
vance of the higher education, and to which an old 
civilization offers peculiar advantages and attractions, 
combined to breed in many persons a love of foreign 
life and foreign manners. These tendencies and op- 
portunities have revived the dying spirit of colonial- 
ism. We see it most strongly in the leisure class, 
which is gradually increasing in this country. During 
the miserable ascendency of the Second Empire, a 
band of these persons formed what was known •las 
the " American colony," in Paris. Perhaps they stUl 
exist ; if so, their existence is now less flagrant and 
more decent. When they were notorious they pre- 
sented the melancholy spectacle of Americans ad- 
miring and aping the manners, habits, and vices of 
another nation, when that nation was bent and cor- 
rupted by the cheap, meretricious, and rotten system 
of the third Napoleon. They furnished a very of- 



360 STUDIES IN HISTORY 

fensive examj^le of peculiarly mean colonialism. This 
particular phase has departed, but the same sort of 
Americans are, unfortunately, still common in Europe. 
I do not mean, of course, those persons who go abroad 
to buy social consideration, nor the women who trade 
on their beauty or their wits to gain a brief and dis- 
honoring notoriety. These last are merely adven- 
turers and adventuresses, who are common to all 
nations. The people referred to here form that large 
class, comprising many excellent men and women, no 
doubt, who pass their lives in Europe, mourning over 
the inferiority of their own country, and who become 
thoroughly denationalized. They do not change into 
Frenchmen or Englishmen, but are simply disfigured 
and deformed Americans. 

We find the same wretched habit of thought in cer- 
tain groups among the rich and idle people of our 
great eastern cities, especially in New York, because 
it is the metropolis. These groups are for the most 
part made up of young men who despise everything 
American and admire everything English. They 
talk and dress and walk and ride in certain ways, be- 
cause they imagine that the English do these things 
after that fashion. They hold their own country in 
contempt, and lament the hard fate of their birth. 
They try to think that they form an aristocracy, and 
become at once ludicrous and despicable. The virtues 
which have made the upper classes in England what 
they are, and which take them into public affairs, into 
literature and politics, are forgotten, for Anglo- Ameri- 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 361 

cans imitate the vices or the follies of their models, 
and stop there. If all this were merely a fleeting 
fashion, an attack of Anglo-mania or of Gallo-mania, 
of which there have been instances enough every- 
where, it would be of no consequence. But it is a re- 
currence of the old and deep-seated malady of colo- 
nialism. It is a lineal descendant of the old colonial 
family. The features are somewhat dim now, and the 
vitality is low, but there is no mistaking the hered- 
itary traits.. The people who thus despise their own 
land, and ape English manners, flatter themselves 
with being cosmopolitans, when in truth they are 
genuine colonists, petty and provincial to the last 
degree. 

We see a like tendency in the same limited but 
marked way in our literature. Some of our cleverest 
fiction is largely devoted to studying the character of 
our countrymen abroad ; that is, either denationalized 
Americans or Americans with a foreign background. 
At times this species of literature resolves itself into 
an agonized effort to show how foreigners regard us, 
and to point out the defects which jar upon foreign 
susceptibilities even while it satirizes the denational- 
ized American. The endeavor to turn ourselves in- 
side out in order to appreciate the trivialities of life 
which impress foreigners unpleasantly is very unprofit- 
able exertion, and the Europeanized American is not 
worth either study or satire. Writings of this kind, 
again, are intended to be cosmopolitan in tone, and to 
evince a knowledge of the world, and yet they are in 



362 STUDIES IN HISTOBY. 

reality steeped in colonialism. We cannot but regret 
the influence of a spirit which wastes fine powers of 
mind and keen perceptions in a fruitless striving and 
a morbid craving to know how we appear to foreign- 
ers, and to show what they think of us. 

We see, also, men and women of talent going abroad 
to study art and remaining there. The atmosphere of 
Europe is more congenial to such pursuits, and the 
struggle as nothing to what must be encountered here. 
But when it leads to an abandonment of America, the 
result is wholly vain. Sometimes these people become 
tolerably successful French artists, but their nation- 
ality and individuality have departed, and with them 
originality and force. The admirable school of etch- 
ing which has arisen in New York ; the beautiful work 
of American wood-engraving ; the Chelsea tiles of 
Low, which have won the highest prizes at English 
exhibitions; the silver of Tiffany, specimens of which 
were bought by the Japanese commissioners at the 
Paris Exposition, are all strong, genuine work, and 
are doing more for American art, and for all art, 
than a wilderness of over-educated and denationalized 
Americans who are painting pictures and carving 
statues and writing music in Europe or in the United 
States, in the spirit of colonists, and bowed down by a 
wretched dependence. 

There is abundance of splendid material all about 
us here for the poet, the artist, or the novelist. The 
conditions are not the same as in Europe, but they are 
not on that account inferior. They are certainly as 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 363 

good. They may be better. Our business is not to 
gTiimble because they are different, for that is colo- 
nial. We must adapt ourselves to them, for we alone 
can use properly our own resources ; and no work in 
art or literature ever has been, or ever will be, of any 
real or lasting value which is not true, original, and 
independent. 

If these remnants of the colonial spirit and in- 
fluence were, as they look at first sight, merely trivial 
accidents, they would not be worth mentioning. But 
the range of their influence, although limited, affects 
an important class. It appears almost wholly among 
the rich or the highly educated in art and literature ; 
that is, to a large extent among men and women of 
talent and refined sensibilities. The follies of those 
who imitate English habits belong really to but a 
small portion of even their own class. But as these 
follies are contemptible, the wholesome prejudice 
which they excite is naturally, but thoughtlessly, ex- 
tended to all who have anything in common with those 
who are guilty of them. In this busy country of ours, 
the men of leisure and education, although increasing 
in number, are still few, and they have heavier duties 
and responsibilities than anywhere else. Public char- 
ities, public affairs, politics, literature, ail demand the 
energies of such men. To the country which has 
given them wealth and leisure and education they owe 
the duty of faitliful service, because they, and they 
alone, can afford to do that work which must be done 
without pay. The few who are imbued with the cole- 



364 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

nial spirit not only fail in their duty, and become 
contemptible and absurd, but they injure the influence 
and thwart the activity of the great majority of those 
who are similarly situated, and who are also patriotic 
and public spirited. 

In art and literature the vain struggle to be some- 
body or something other than an American, the sense- 
less admiration of everything foreign, and the morbid 
anxiety about our appearance before foreigners have 
the same deadening effect. Such qualities were bad 
enough in 1820. They are a thousand times meaner 
and more foolish now. They retard the march of true 
progress, which here, as elsewhere, must be in the di- 
rection of nationality and independence. This does 
not mean that we are to expect or to seek for some- 
thing utterly different, something new and strange, in 
art, literature, or society. Originality is thinking for 
one's self. Simply to think differently from other 
people is eccentricity. Some of our English cousins, 
for instance, have undertaken to hold Walt Whitman 
up as the herald of the coming literature of American 
democracy, merely because he departed from all re- 
ceived forms, and indulged in barbarous eccentricities. 
They mistake difference for originality. When Whit- 
man did best, he was nearest to the old and well-proved 
forms. We, like our contemporaries everywhere, are 
the heirs of the ages, and we must study the past, and 
learn from it, and advance from what has been already 
tried and found good. That is the only way to success 
anywhere, or in anything. But we cannot enter upon 



COLONIALISM IN THE UNITED STATES. 365 

that or any other road until we are truly national and 
independent intellectually, and are ready to think for 
ourselves, and not look to foreigners in order to fuid 
out what they think. 

To those who grumble and sigh over the inferiority 
of America we may commend the opinion of a distin- 
guished Englishman, as they prefer such authority. 
Mr. Herbert Spencer said, recently, "I think that 
whatever difficulties they may have to surmount, and 
whatever tribulations they may have to pass through, 
the Americans may reasonably look forward to a time 
when they will have produced a civilization grander 
than any the world has known." Even the English- 
men whom our provincials of to-day adore, even those 
who are most hostile, pay a serious attention to Amer- 
ica. That keen respect for success and anxious defer- 
ence to power so characteristic of Great Britain find 
expression every day, more and more, in the English 
interest in the United States, now that we do not care 
in the least about it ; and be it said in passing, no peo- 
ple desjDises more heartily than the English a man who 
does not love his country. To be despised abroad, and 
regarded with contempt and pity at home, is not a very 
lofty result of so much effort on the part of our lovers 
of the British. But it is the natural and fit reward of 
colonialism. Members of a great nation instinctively 
patronize colonists. 

It is interesting to examine the sources of the colo- 
nial spirit, and to trace its influence upon our history 
and its gradual decline. The study of a habit of mind, 



366 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

with its tenacity of life, is an instructive and entertain- 
ing branch of history. But if we lay history and phil- 
osophy aside, the colonial spirit as it survives to-day, 
although curious enough, is a mean and noxious thing, 
which cannot be too quickly or too thoroughly stamped 
out. It is the dying spirit of dependence, and wher- 
ever it still clings it injures, weakens, and degrades. 
It should be exorcised rapidly and completely, so that 
it will never return. I cannot close more fitly than 
with the noble words of Emerson : — 

"Let the passion for America cast out the passion 
for Europe. They who find America insipid, they for 
whom London and Paris have spoiled their own homes, 
can be spared to return to those cities. I not only see 
a career at home for more genius than we have, but for 
more than there is in the world." 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF THE UNITED 
STATES. 

1840—1881. 



Fkench books of travel are not uucommon, because 
every Frenchman who leaves home is so struck by the 
fact of his expatriation that, as a rule, he immediately 
writes and publishes his impressions, even if he does 
no more than cross the Rhine. French travelers, how- 
ever, are scarce, because wandering in distant lands is 
distasteful and irksome to the gifted race to which 
they belong. We have been surfeited with books 
about the United States by traveling Englishmen, 
both eminent and obscure, but descriptions of the 
United States, and of the manners and customs of our 
people, by intelligent and cultivated Frenchmen are 
not common. The two volumes by M. de Bacourt 
and by the Vicomte d'Haussonville ^ are, therefore, 
well worth consideration, and they have an especial 
interest from the strong contrast they present, both in 
the character of the writers and in the result of their 
observations. They give a most striking picture, also, 

^ De Bacourt, Souvenirs (Tun Diplomate. Lettres Intimes sur 
VAmerique. 1882. 

A Trovers les Etats-Unis. Notes et Impressions. Par le Vi- 
comte d'Haussonville, Aneien Depute. 1883. 



368 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

of the vast changes in the United States in the inter- 
val of forty years which separates them, and, unlike 
most books of travel, afford an interesting and sugges- 
tive opportunity of understanding certain phases of 
character peculiar to their authors and to the nation 
of which they are representatives. 

Apart from general historical and philosophical 
considerations, M. de Bacourt's book is a very poor 
one. It is not even amusing, except on rare occasions ; 
and in this respect the author is inferior to most of his 
countrymen, who, even when they are very ignorant, 
almost always contrive to be entertaining. French 
ignorance, in fact, is often more amusing than the 
wisdom of other people, but the worthy De Bacourt is 
distinctly dull. This much may be said for him, how- 
ever : the work of his editress is far worse than his 
own. 

The book, nevertheless, is interesting in three ways : 
first, because it has been published ; secondly, as typ- 
ical of a very marked quality of the French mind ; 
and thirdly, because some of the incidents which the 
author saw and noted have a historical and compara- 
tive value to Americans. 

The publication of such a book illustrates a fashion, 
just now much in vogue in Europe, and especially 
in England, of paying a great deal of attention to 
this country. Our civil war and its triumphant re- 
sult ; our rapid payment of the national debt ; our 
marvelous growth in wealth, prosj)erity, and popu- 
lation ; in one word, our success, have within a few 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 369 

years brought home to the perceptions of the Old 
World a fact which only their own carelessness or 
stupidity prevented their seeing before. They have 
lately discovered that a great factor in the affairs of 
mankind, and a nation of vast and, in the future, of 
overshadowing power, has arisen on this side of the 
Atlantic. Our cousins of England, from a variety of 
causes, but chiefly from their unrivaled instinct and 
keen respect for material success, were the first to 
make the discovery. It is astonishing to see how much 
of current English literature, particularly in reviews 
and newspapers, is devoted to this country, and to our 
sayings and doings in every department of human ac- 
tivity. Crowds of Englishmen come here to-day where 
a handfid came twenty years ago, and almost every 
man of any distinction among them goes home and 
writes his impressions about our country, govern- 
ment, society, and manners. In the years before the 
war there was hardly an Englishman who did not 
abuse us, more or less ignorantly, whenever he thought 
about us at all, which was not often. We were then 
very anxious about foreign opinion, very greedy for it, 
and very sensitive to it. Now, when we get a great 
deal of it, and an abundance of praise and wonder to 
boot, we are, as we ought to be, quite indifferent to 
the whole business. We sometimes read the various 
lucubrations from a feeling of curiosity, accept what is 
just, smile at the blunders, and forget the whole thing 
very quickly. But most of this foreign criticism, be- 
sides paying us the greatest compliment possible by 

24 



370 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

giving a close study to our institutions and prospects, 
is often in a tone of admiration, almost invariably of 
respect. 

Sucli is the general drift of foreign opinion ; but 
there is a class, on the other side of the Atlantic, who 
regard us with very different feelings from those com- 
monly entertained. This is the Tory class. We mean 
by this those persons, in many cases, perhaps, belong- 
ing to noble families, whose interests and affections 
are bound up with the past, and who hate modern ten- 
dencies with a purblind hatred. Such people have 
always detested, and until lately have despised, the 
United States. They detest us as much as ever, but 
their contempt has changed to alarm. They perceive 
plainly that our success and greatness mean the suc- 
cess and greatness of democracy, and they regard de- 
mocracy, rightly enough, as their direst foe. We no- 
tice in these quarters, therefore, that interest in the 
United States takes the form of an eager effort to 
discredit us, and, through us, democracy and republi- 
can institutions generally. Contemptuous abuse, it is 
obvious even to them, is no longer of any value. The 
case has become too serious for that. Take, for exam- 
ple, the " Saturday Review." That journal, now in its 
decline, was wont, in its palmy days, to refer to us oc- 
casionally, in order to hold up our worthlessness to the 
hissing and scorn of all well-regulated nations, and also 
to give vent to the asperity which a large investment in 
Confederate bonds naturally engendered in the breast 
of its proprietor. Nobody ever cared much for what 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 371 

the " Saturday Review " said, except to have a little 
fun with its articles ; and now that it has grown duller 
no one here cares a straw about it, one way or the 
other. But, as we have become indifferent, the tone of 
" the Saturday Review " has changed. It is now very 
sensitive to our criticism, and much annoyed by what 
we say, and rushes about in a defensive way, seeking 
warlike material. In this pursuit it tries to discredit 
us, and, besides taking great comfort in Mr. Henry 
James's statement that we no longer speak English, it 
has lately been digging up the dried mud of Dickens's 
"American Notes" and "Martin Chuzzlewit," and 
has been throwing that about in default of anything 
better. There is something rather pleasing in the an- 
noyance which American opinion on various matters 
is giving to the worthy persons who conduct that peri- 
odical ; but the matter is of no consequence except as 
an illustration of the blind Tory prejudice to which I 
have alluded. We are apt, however, to forget that 
the same class exists in Paris, in the Faubourg St. 
Germain, as well as in London. The French Tories 
seem to have a vague notion that successful democ- 
racy in America is helping to bury still deeper the 
dead Bourbonism which they love. They dimly feel 
that it is a good thing to put that democracy in an 
odious light, and hence the iDublication of M. de Ba- 
court's private letters. The preface discloses veiy 
frankly the purpose of the book, which is published 
in order to injure us in public oi^inion, and if the ed- 
itress is amused thereby no one else can object, for it 



372 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

certainly does not liurt us. There can be, in fact, no 
other motive than political and social antipathy, inas- 
much as the book, except for a slight historical value 
to a limited circle of American readers, is completely 
without interest or importance. But as an emanation 
of the Tory mind, as a specimen of the Tory anxiety 
in regard to the United States, the publication of 
these letters is a curious and suggestive incident. 

The book is, however, still more interesting as the 
expression and example of a highly typical French 
mind. M. de Bacourt was a gentleman of good family. 
He had literary tastes, was the editor of the Mirabeau 
and Talleyrand papers, a scholar and man of the world. 
More than all this, he had passed a large part of his 
life in diplomacy. As a diplomatist, and as the friend 
and literary executor of Talleyrand, he had an exten- 
sive acquaintance with the interests, the affairs, and 
the character of nations other than his own, as well as 
a thorough familiarity with modern history. A man 
of such antecedents and of such habits and training 
would seem to have been almost ideally fitted for a 
traveler, observer, and critic. Yet, as these letters 
show, he was utterly unable to understand a foreign 
nation even in the dimmest way. He had not even 
the capacity of setting down intelligently what he saw ; 
and such was his mental blindness that he saw scarcely 
anything. All this was due to the simple fact that M. 
de Bacourt was a Frenchman of a numerous and well- 
known class ; and he rises, in this way, to the dignity 
of one of those extreme and well-defined types which, 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 373 

under tlie modern comparative system of investigation 
and study, are at once so satisfactory and so attract- 
ive. 

There are no people on the earth, except the Chinese, 
having any claim to be called civilized who are such ab- 
solute slaves to local limitations as the Fr^ich. As a 
rule they know nothing, and wish to know nothing, of 
other nations. There is, of course, in every country a 
large body of ignorance in regard to foreign nations and 
foreign countries ; but in France there is an arrogant 
and complacent ignorance in this respect, to which the 
exceptions are so few that it may almost be called uni- 
versal. It includes all classes and degrees, from the 
aristocrat who follows the white flag and the men of 
the highest education down to the idlers of the Boule- 
vard and the blue-shirted workmen of the Faubourgs. 
To Frenchmen Paris is at this moment not only the 
great centre of light and life, but they hardly recog- 
nize the existence of any other considerable city. 
They are still living in the seventeenth and eighteenth 
centuries, when French was the language of the jiolite 
world, and when the princelings of Germany and their 
courtiers mangled the language, and complimented by 
a brutal imitation the vices and follies of the "great 
people." They have not yet awakened to the fact that 
the great world outside. of their boundaries is sweeping 
by them, and that civilized mankind, as has been clev- 
erly said, " might now be divided into two nations : 
those who speak English and those who do not." 
Hardly ten years have elapsed since France was 



374 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

crushed, in the short space of six months, under the 
iron heel of military conquest, and a principal cause of 
all this disgrace and disaster was her persistent, com- 
placent, crass ignorance of her next-door neighbors. 
If the French were narrowed and degraded like the 
Spaniards, -if they were slow of mind like the Ger- 
mans, this intellectual malformation would not be so 
surprising. But they are among the quickest witted 
of the sons of men. They have attained the highest 
distinction, compatible with a lack of the loftiest im- 
agination, in literature, science, and art, and in every 
department of intellectual life. They are thrifty, in- 
dustrious, and frugal. Their resources have but re- 
cently astonished the world. Yet they are steadily, 
although very slowly, dropping behind ; and examina- 
tion reveals that the decline of France, which is des- 
tined to increase more rapidly in the future than it has 
in the past, is mainly due to the colossal conceit of her 
people, and to their inability and unwillingness to 
know, or understand, anything or indeed anybody out- 
side of their own boundaries, or to live in any country 
but their own. ' 

Every one who has read knows how few French 
travelers there have been. Every one who has jour- 
neyed in Europe or elsewhere is aware "that, while all 
the rest of the world travels^ Frenchmen, compara- 
tively speaking, are rarely to be met with. This ap- 
parently trivial phenomenon has a profound signifi- 
cance. It is the superficial indication of the absence 
of the wandering, adventurous, enterprising spirit 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 375 

which has enabled certain races to adapt themselves to 
new regions and new conditions, and thus win wealth 
and honor and found new states. The great nations 
of the earth, the few which have ruled the world and 
made its history, have been those possessing the genius 
of colonization. Other nations have risen and decayed, 
while these endured, and their influence has survived 
every chance and change. There have been but three : 
the Greek, the Roman, and the Eiiglish. If we look 
at modern times, we see the importance of coloniza- 
tion at a glance. Holland, Portugal, Spain, all rose to 
great although temporary power by acquisitions in the 
New World. Germany did not rise during the same 
period, for she was rent internally, and had no colo- 
nies. Venice alone in Italy rose high in the political 
scale, and Venice colonized. France saw the value of 
the policy and sent out expeditions. She forcibly 
transported settlers to Canada ; but her colonies did 
not flourish, for the right spirit did not exist, either 
among the colonists or in the smothering atmosphere 
of despotism and paternal government in the mother 
country. There was a great struggle for supremacy in 
colonization, and in 1760 England prevailed and dom- 
inated the world, while France lost the colonies she 
had, and never regained them or established new ones. 
The English empire of that day has been torn asunder ; 
but the English race, because it possessed the genius 
for colonization, because it saw the opportunities be- 
yond its own borders, was adventurous and enterpris- 
ing, and could shape itself to new conditions, is still 



376 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

supreme. The English people; outside of Great Brit- 
ain, possess the northern and have a controlling influ- 
ence over the southern continent of the Western hem- 
isphere. Australia, the new continent, is theirs, and 
South Africa. They are the rulers of India and of a 
multitude of smaller states. One hundred millions of 
people speak to-day the English tongue, and their com- 
bined wealth and power more than equals that of all 
the rest of the world. How small and contracted 
France appears, in comparison with this mighty Eng- 
lish race, whose intellectual and material progress 
have gone hand in hand ! France owes her inferiority 
to her own narrowness. All the adventurous, coloniz- 
ing spirit she ever had left her, together with much 
else of saving grace, when she drove out the Hugue- 
nots, the flower of her people, and let them carry 
to England and America fresh elements of strength 
and power.' It seems a little thing to say, that a na- 
tion is narrow-minded and incapable of understanding 
other nations and other lands, when the classic con- 
tempt for the " barbarian," the same thing in another 
form, is a distinguishing characteristic of strong races. 
Yet it is this contracted and illiberal turn of mind 
which deprived France of colonies, and which now im- 
pedes her progress, and is drawing her down to an 
inferior place in the scale of nations. 

This is the broad historical view of the question; 
but in M. de Bacourt's letters we can see this spirit of 
French provincialism manifested in its very essence. 
We do not mean by this his abuse and dislike of the 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 377 

United States. That he should abuse and dislike us 
was natural enough, and has nothing to do with the 
mental deficiency of his race, of which I have been 
speaking. The difficulty with M. de Bacourt, as with 
most of his fellow-countrymen, is not that his opinion 
is favorable or unfavorable in regard to another race 
or country, but that he has no reasons for any view, 
one way or the other, except that a given thing is or is 
not after his own fashion. Frenchmen, in short, of the 
De Bacourt type cannot usually understand anything 
that is not French. They either admire stupidly, or as 
stupidly condemn, — usually the latter. From narrow- 
ness, and not from conscious strength, they regard for- 
eigners as barbarians, ex vi termini, and their f acvdties 
never seem to get beyond the Chinese wall of compla- 
cent ignorance by which they are inclosed. M. de Ba- 
coui't indulged in many sapient reflections, instead of 
setting down what he observed, and he never went be- 
low the sui'face of things, — another quite common 
failing of his race. He appreciated the natural scenery 
of America, and admired it, and thus he was led to 
comprehend dimly that this was a land of magnificent 
opportunities. He also perceived that there was a dan- 
gerous diversity of opinion between the South and the 
North on the question of slavery, and he thought, rather 
vaguely, that a war might grow out of these differences. 
It would have been abnormal, even in M. de Bacourt, to 
have failed to see this, but his admiring niece points it 
out as an instance of almost superhuman persiDicacity. 
With this exception, every conclusion drawn by M. de 



378 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Bacourt — and he drew a great maii}^, on very slight 
premises — is hopelessly and invariably wrong. For 
instance, he saw placards in the railway stations warn- 
ing the public to beware of pickpockets, and he con- 
cluded that we were a nation of thieves. There were 
a number of suicides at one time while he was here, 
and he immediately made up his mind that we were 
all preparing to cut our throats, and that these sui- 
cides were a proof of the failure of our institutions and 
of our civilization. He says, to take an examj)le of 
a more serious kind, that the South was democratic, 
and the North aristocratic. It is obvious, one would 
think, to the meanest understanding, that the direct 
reverse was the case. A S3^stem founded on slavery is 
necessarily aristocratic, while the industrial and agri- 
cidtural communities of the North were conspicuously 
and plainly democratic, in the very nature of things. 
If any one had stated to M. de Bacourt in Paris, as an 
abstract proposition, that slave-holders formed a dem- 
ocratic society, he would have set his informant down 
as an ignorant babbler. Yet in the United States he 
exhibited precisely this shallow and unthinking folly 
himself. Any number of similar examples could be 
cited, but these suffice to show the profound inability 
of a large class of Frenchmen to understand or reason 
upon anything outside of France. 

This brings us to the third point of interest in M. 
de Bacourt's book, what he actually saw and heard in 
the United States in 1840. There is no such word as 
" home " in the French language, and no such thing as 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 379 

" home," as we understand it, in Frencli cities. Yet 
there is no one who suffers so acutely from home-sick- 
ness as a Frenchman out of France. The " mal du 
jiciys " afflicts the " great people " to an unequaled ex- 
tent. M. de Bacourt, when he was sent as minister to 
this country, suffered from a well-defined attack of 
nostalgia, and he was, moreover, in wretched health ; 
two circumstances which increased the natural gloom 
of the situation. After he had been in America nearly 
a month, the only gleam of light was in the fact that 
he had met a few people who remembered Talleyrand ; 
a touching example of French open-mindedness and 
intelligence. The whole case may be summed up very 
briefly. M. de Bacourt was utterly and profoundly 
disgusted with everything and everybody. This was 
perfectly natural, and in a certain degree not unrea- 
sonable. He came from the high civilization of Paris 
to a civilization crude in the extreme. We had cast 
off the habits and customs borrowed from Europe in 
colonial days ; we had not yet established and defined 
our own habits and customs. Everything was in a 
formative condition. It was a state of solution, and a 
period of transition. IVIanners were free and easy. 
Education had spread, but had not advanced propor- 
tionately, and the art of living was entirely undevel- 
oped. 

The condition of the large cities, even, was rough 
and unattractive, and Washington was inexpressibly 
dreary. A few great public buildings, some strag- 
gling, ill-built houses, and clusters of negro shanties 



380 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

made up the capital city of the Union. The high- 
ways were unpaved, dusty in summer, and so muddy 
during the rest o£ the year as to be almost impassable. 
Cattle and swine ran loose in the streets, making night 
hideous with their noise, and women milked their cows 
at the edge of the sidewalks. To a native of Paris 
this was not agreeable. The other cities were scarcely 
better. Baltimore resembled Washington ; New York, 
given up to trade and commerce, M. de Bacourt 
thought thoroughly repulsive. He refers to it as a 
confused, hot, dirty, unfinished place, the resort of all 
the adventurers on the continent. The appearance of 
Boston pleased him. He describes it as a handsome 
English city, well built and well ordered, clean, and 
free from cattle and pigs. But he found it very dull, 
and the cold climate and the dislike of the French 
which pervaded society led him to give his final pref- 
erence to Philadelphia, which had most of the material 
advantages of Boston without its drawbacks. At best, 
however, it was a mere choice of evils. 

American politics toviched their lowest point during 
the administration of Mr. Polk. It is tlie fashion to 
speak of politics and political life as of a lower order 
at the present day than ever before ; but this is a com- 
plete mistake. The decline in our politics set in with 
Andrew Jackson, and they began to im2)rove after Mr. 
Polk's administration. They advanced but slightly 
for many years, but still progress has been steady. It 
is very true that at this moment we have no men of 
such ability as Webster, Clay, and Calhoun in public 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 381 

life ; but the general tone of politics to-day, at Wash- < 
ington especially, is infinitely better than when those 
distinguished leaders were at the height of their repu- 
tation. The brutality, the coarseness, the financial 
dishonesty and disaster resulting from Jackson's over- 
throw of the bank, the low tone of the politics of that 
period, and the savagery engendered by slavery have 
almost wholly disappeared. When M. de Bacourt 
came here, iii 1840, we were very nearly at our lowest 
point. He was disgusted beyond reason with what he 
saw, but not wholly without cause. The trouble with 
M. de Bacourt was not that he disliked his surround- 
ings and the manners of the people whom he met, but 
that he at once concluded, in the most empty-headed 
way, that these outside appearances and these superfi- 
cial defects, many of them inevitable, told the whole 
story, and that the entire republic was a crude and 
vulgar failure. He believed that the men of English 
race, who had mastered the continent, and incidentally 
driven the French out of it, could not make the most of. 
their opportunities, and were going helplessly and hope- 
lessly to pieces. A moment's historical reflection 
would have shown him the absurdity of this reasoning ; 
but he was a Frenchman, his dinners were bad, the 
manners of the people were rough, there were evil 
things in politics, and hence everything was necessarily 
doomed to ruin. It was not French, in short, and 
therefore no good could come of it. To a man accus- 
tomed to the kaleidoscopic changes of system in France, 
where a bookseller of revolutionary times told a gen- 



382 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

, tleman who ' asked for a copy of the constitution, 
" that he did not deal in periodical literature," the 
stability of American government and the sound com- 
mon sense and robust energy of the American people 
were sealed books, because there was nothing in his 
experience to tell him of the existence or the value of 
such qualities. M. de Bacourt summed up his ideas 
by saying that the American people were second and 
third rate Englishmen, and that, as M. Talleyrand 
said, their society lacked solid foundation, because the 
people had no moral sense. There is something per- 
fectly grotesque in this last assertion. Talleyrand was 
a great man, but he was no more fit to judge of " moral 
sense " than a Hottentot is to criticise the Dresden 
Madonna. There may have been men in public life 
more free from the burden of a moral sense than Tal- 
leyrand, but it would not be easy to find them. His 
only connection with the United States was when he 
tried to force bribes from the American envoys in 
1798. These immoral men, belie^'ing that they were 
insulted,, thereupon left France, and their country 
prepared for war, which soon brought the " great re- 
public " to terms. That M. Talleyrand regarded such 
conduct as proof positive of a lack of sense I have 
no doubt ; and in matters of bribery and intrigue he 
was a good judge, but on morality his criticisms are 
not equally valuable. 

M. de Bacourt's judgment of our public men was 
largely determined by their attitude towards the duties 
on French wines and silks. Van Buren, who was 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 383 

friendly to him on this point, lie kindly refers to as 
an excellent " imitation of a gentleman," and regrets 
liis defeat when a candidate for reelection. He rather 
liked Clay, who was a true type, as he puts it, of the 
English "gentleman farmer." Calhoun he also liked, 
and Poinsett and Ewing. Webster, who was "anti- 
French," he depicts as pompous, pretentious, and tire- 
some. He further describes Mr. Webster's getting 
drunk at dinner, and then making a maudlin speech 
to him. This charming incident his niece calls special 
attention to in the preface. Generally M. de Bacourt 
spoke the truth. In this case he went beyond the 
truth, very obviously, and committed the great blunder 
of not making his scandal reasonable. The effect of 
wine on Mr. Webster was to make him dull and heavy, 
moody and sleepy, not talkative and foolish. That he 
took too much madeira at the President's dinner is, 
unf ortmiately, not improbable ; that he afterwards 
made a maudlin speech to M. de Bacourt, like a tipsy 
sophomore, strikes one as the rather clumsy invention 
of a personal enemy. M. de Bacourt is, however, un- 
lucky in all he says about Webster. He speaks of 
him as a second-rate Englishman, and a sillier descrip- 
tion could hardly have been devised. Webster was a 
thorough, pure-blooded American, of a strongly Amer- 
ican type, and as unlike an Englishman in looks as it 
is possible for an American to be. It was reserved for 
M. de Bacourt to be the only man of any race or creed 
who was so innately petty as not to be impressed by 
Webster's superb j)hysical j)resence and leonine look. 



384 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

The bitterest hatred of the French minister, how- 
ever, was kept for John Quincy Adams, who opposed 
his wishes as to the tariff and exj)osed his lobbying 
with the committees. De Bacourt exults, with the de- 
light of a mean spirit, over the attacks made upon 
the gallant- old man when he presented the Havei-hill 
petition. Two other congressmen, Mr. Winthrop of 
Massachusetts and Mr. Kennedy of Maryland, M. de 
Bacourt found more " comme il faut " than anybody 
he met. 

The French are proverbially witty, and all the 
world enjoys their wit ; but they are usually devoid of 
any sense of humor, and of the power of appreciating 
any wit but their own. This was a marked defect in 
M. de Bacourt. He was, for example, frequently ad- 
vised to marry, and good-naturedly joked with on this 
subject, and this harmless nonsense he took in dead 
earnest, and considered it very indelicate. At one 
time it was a bit of fun to put on a visiting-card 
G. T. T., " Gone to Texas ; " which M. de Bacourt 
considered a mark of national depravity, as well 
as irreverent to the sacred P. P. C. of France. But 
the hardest blow was when the newspapers spoke of 
Dickens, Lafayette, Fanny Ellsler, and the Prince de 
Joinville " in that order," as the unhappy De Bacourt 
indignantly exclaims. 

It will not be amiss to make one extract before leav- 
ing the book and turning to the Vicomte d'Haus- 
sonville. It is an amusing account of an interview 
which M. de Bacourt had with some members of the 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 385 

cabinet when he was calling on Mr. Ewing, the Sec- 
retary of the Treasury. " We had only exchanged a 
few words," he says, " when Mr. Crittenden, the At- 
torney-General, Mr. Bell, Secretary of War, and Mr. 
Badger, Secretary of the Navy, came in. Mr. Badger 
was smoking a cigar, which he did not extinguish ; 
Mr. Bell threw himself upon a sofa, putting his feet 
upon one of the arms, thus showing us the soles of his 
boots ; as to Mr. Crittenden, as he was very warm, he 
threw off his coat, and took from his pocket a bit of 
tobacco, which he placed in his mouth to chew. They 
all took a joking tone with me, which I was obliged to 
assume with them, in order not to offend men who are 
very influential in our commercial affairs." The de- 
scription of President Harrison's reception of the di- 
plomatic corps is too long for quotation, but is equally 
amusing. 

A word in conclusion as to the editing, for that, too, 
is in its way illustrative and suggestive of the Tory 
attitude toward the United States. M. de Bacourt 
evidently understood English sufficiently to write it 
correctly, but almost every other English word in the 
book is grotesquely misspelled. The blunders were 
made, evidently, in copying. They are so obvious that 
one would think the average Parisian cabman would 
have known enough to correct them ; but they are 
clearly beyond the scholarship of the Comtesse de 
Mirabeau. There is another and more serious fault. 
I should be the last to favor suppression in any 
historical documents, but the personal appearance of 

18 



386 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

ladies and gentlemen in the families where M. de Ba- 
court was received has neither historical nor public in- 
terest. The only names suppressed are those of some 
obscure French people in New York, while all others 
are given in full, although often disguised by very 
strange spelling. M. de Bacourt, as was perfectly 
proper in confidential letters to an intimate friend, 
wrote frankly of everything he saw in private houses. 
To print all this criticism upon ladies and gentlemen 
who were entirely in private life, and some of whom 
are still living, is a gross breach of hospitality and a 
piece of dishonorable ingratitude. The sin lies at the 
door of the lady who edited the letters, and it argues 
a lack of that good feeling which is the foundation 
of good manners, and shows the same illiberality and 
narrowness of view which induced the publication of 
the book. 

As I have said that the book is poor and of little 
value, my readers may be inclined to aj^ply to me the 
Italian proverb, that " no one tlu-ows stones at a tree 
which has no fruit." I can only reply, in excuse, that 
a poor book may be very suggestive ; and this can 
tridy be said of M. de Bacourt's letters, although few 
persons would be repaid for the trouble of reading 
them. 

It is quite different with the "Notes and Impres- 
sions " of the Vicomte d'Haussonville, written more 
than forty years after the visit of M. de Bacourt, and 
it is a relief to turn from the discontented minister to 
the amiable guest of the United States at the York- 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 387 

town celebration. This is not due to tlie fact that 
the latter judges us more kindly than the former, for 
the Vicomte finds much to criticise. It must be 
chiefly attributed to the fact that M. d'Haussonville 
wrote more pleasantly and brightly, was more open- 
minded, and much more disposed to take a cheerful 
and philosophical view of matters and things than his 
predecessor. 

There is, as I have already said, a most curious 
contrast in every way between the two books. It 
would be difficult to imagine a more striking pic- 
ture of the marvelous progress of the United States 
than is presented by a comparison of De Bacourt's 
description of the crude, unformed civilization, the 
undeveloped society, the uncomfortable every-day ex- 
istence wliich he found here in 1840, with that given 
by the Vicomte d'Haussonville in the impressions 
which he gathered during his hasty visit in 1881. 
One can scarcely believe that the two men are writing 
about the same country. It must be admitted, how- 
ever, that the difference between the United States in 
1840 and in 1881 is hardly more marked than the con- 
trast between De Bacourt and D'Haussonville them- 
selves. The former, if judged by his book, was a 
shallow, narrow-minded man, feeble, discontented, and 
possessing but little imagination. The latter is a 
shrewd and careful observer, liberal, kindly, generous, 
with a great deal of imagination, and a pleasant tinge 
of French romanticism, at which he himself is strongly 
inclined to smile a little sadly as one of the memories 
of youtliful days. 



388 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

There are many passages which show M. d'Haus- 
sonville to have a strong sense of humor, and he is 
invariably good-tempered ; but his book is sober and 
thoughtful, with no effort to be brilliant or witty, 
and ought to find many readers in this country. It 
is, perhaps, not so strongly typical of a marked men- 
tal conformation as that of De Bacourt, but it well 
repays, both in interest and instruction, a careful 
perusual. 

I shall not attempt to examine it as minutely as it 
deserves, or to do more than touch ui3on some of its 
most salient points. It is chiefly interesting in this 
connection for comparison, and for some of the criti- 
cisms, which in the case of a traveler of this sort are 
well worth considei'ation. It may be said at the out- 
set that M. d'llaussonville found nothing of "that 
strange and eccentric character which Frenchmen al- 
ways foolishly expect to find in America." Another 
peculiarity is that he was thoroughly grateful for the 
sincere and hearty hospitality which was shown him, a 
pleasant quality which is not infrequently lacking in 
foreign visitors. As he gracefully says, in speaking 
of a fire in New York, he could not help wondering 
" whether one of the committee which had received 
us in the morning had not pushed his gallantry so far 
as to set fire to his house, in order to give us the 
pleasure of seeing it extinguished." 

M. d'Haussonville has something to say on a large 
variety of subjects, and his remarks show great justice 
and keenness of apprehension. It will surprise some 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 389 

of our Eui'opeanizecl Americans to learn that he con- 
siders our press, even of the second and third class, to 
have far more news and to be much better edited than 
the French journals. He also found the former, despite 
their bitter political articles, singidarly free from talk 
and gossip about private individuals, or about those 
persons who really desire privacy ; and he adds that 
" lesfaits scandaleux et les proces scabreux,'^ which 
occupy so large a space in such newspapers as the 
Paris " Figaro," are with us relegated to their proper 
place in a separate column. 

He examined with great care, and on the whole sums 
up very accurately, the state of our politics ; defining 
the Republicans as the centralizing, and the Democrats 
as the state's-rights, party, — a description which has 
perhaps more historical than contemporary exactness. 
The old memories and passions of the war, he thinks, 
are not quite dead, but the predominant, overmaster- 
ing feelings at present are love for the Union and na- 
tional pride. In his judgment, not only slavery, but 
secession as well, is effaced forever, and those who look 
for another separatist movement will be woefully dis- 
appointed, as they were when the country submitted 
without a murmur to the decision of the electoral com- 
mission. He studied with some care the results of the 
rebellion, and after every allowance for the evils it 
brought he says finely, when giving an account of his 
visit to Arlington, " After all, only a great people is 
capable of a great civil war." 

At the same time, his admiration of results does not 



390 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

blind liim to existing evils. He points out the de- 
moralizing miscliief of the reconstruction period, and 
finds the perils which now menace us in the political 
corruption that crops out in our cities and in our 
great national departments. He regards the " sj^oils 
system " as part of the same deteriorating influence, 
and looks upon the inferior character and ability of 
men in politics and public life as a great misfortune. 
But M. d'Haussonville also believes that a reaction 
has begun ; that public opinion, outside of active pol- 
iticians, is a mighty force, and is both sound and 
strong. He hopes most, however, from the well-regu- 
lated love of liberty, characteristic of the race ; the 
law-abiding instinct shown in the popular deference, 
as he puts it, for the policeman's " baton ; " and the 
strong religious sentiments of the peojale. M. d'Haus- 
sonville says, too, that signs are not wanting to indicate 
the appearance of a higher class of men in politics, 
from which he draws encouragement as to our future. 
Although our political defects are marked, and even 
dangerous, he has no idea that they will j3rove fatal, 
and is of oj)inion that we have the ability to rise to 
the level of our unequaled opportunities. His views 
of our politics, and of our political prospects, without 
being very rosy or extremely optimistic, are on the 
whole cheerful, and praise and blame are both awarded 
with much moderation. He is perfectly satisfied, more- 
over, that those of his countrymen who speak of us as 
in a state of decadence are not only very ignorant and 
prejudiced, but utterly mistaken. 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 391 

On social matters M. d'Haussonville is as sugge&tive 
as on matters political, and is far more amusing. In 
one place, he says that he wishes those who think 
there are no classes in America would come here and 
see for themselves. Social distinctions appeared to 
him very rigid, and affection for the past and for tra- 
dition very strong, — two easily explicable facts, which 
surprised him not a little. The latter admirable qual- 
ity is part of the conservatism of the English race, and 
it is peculiarly vigorous in the United States from the 
very fact that our history is so brief p.ud our own es- 
pecial jjast so limited. As to the social distinctions in 
a country where all distinctions have been swept away, 
so far as laws and constitutions can do it, it is only 
natural that, from their inherent weakness and neces- 
sary frailty, they should be more jealously guarded 
than in other lands, where they are fortified by stat- 
ute, custom, and authority. Very few persons trouble 
themselves about such matters, and the consideration 
of social distinctions is as a rule confined to empty- 
headed people with little to do, and to those who, hav- 
ing no social position, are anxious to gain one and 
therefore scrutinize their neighbors' claims with jealous 
snobbishness. The democracy and the equality are 
none the less real because these harmless and appar- 
ently rigid social distinctions exist or seem to exist in 
the United States. At most they only serve to amuse 
the idleness and tickle the vanity of a very insignifi- 
cant class. There is no real life or force in any of 
them. 



392 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

Apart from outward graces and refinements, our 
manners are, on the average and at bottom, better than 
those of any other people, and for a very simple rea- 
son. Democracy destroys forms, but it demands and 
breeds the kindliness and good-nature which are the 
essence of the best manners ; and this fact M. d'Haus- 
sonville recognizes and a(bnits. lie makes an honest 
confession on this point after describing the Pullman- 
car conductor on the train to Chicago to whom he was 
formally introduced. After shaking hands the con- 
ductor discussed with him the French reception in 
Rhode Island and many other topics ; all of which 
seemed to the Vicomte rather absurd, especially when 
he pressed a fee of two dollars into his friend's willing 
hand. But when he conies to the end of this little 
incident, he frankly grants that the conductor was, in 
all essentials, a better-mannered man than any of his 
class in Europe ; and hence follows the further ad- 
mission of this as a general truth applicable to the 
people of the country at large. 

In whatever he says about society, however, M. 
d'Haussonville shows that penetrating perception of 
which his race is sometimes capable, and he places his 
finger with unerring accuracy upon that which is at 
once our most distinguished social peculiarity and our 
chief defect. The passage is worth quoting : " En 
Amerique lorsque vous partez pour une ville quelcon- 
que, on vous dit invariablement, ' Vous verrez la de tres 
jolies jeunes filles, — very pretty girls.'' En France on 
dirait, de tres jolies femmes. Toute la difference dont 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 393 

je parle se traduit par I'emploi de ces deux mots. En 
Amerique, c'est pour les jeunes filles qu'est organise 
le mouvement social, — bal, cotillons, matinees, par- 
ties de campagne, tout rovile sur elles ; et les jeunes 
femmes, sans en etre exclues, n'y prennent qu'une part 
restreinte, le plus souvent sous pretexte de cliape- 
ronner uue on plusieurs sceurs, cousines, ou amies. Les 
jeunes personnes vont egalement beaucoup au theatre, 
dinent seules en ville, ou vont faire des sejours chez 
des amies mariees. . . . En un mot, elles compren- 
nent la vie telle que la comprend cette vieille ballade 
du Gateau de la mariee, qu'on recite ou qu'on recitait 
autrefois en Bretagne a cliaque jeune fille le jour de 

ses noces : — 

* Vous n'irez plus au bal, 

Madame la mariee,' 

et qui se termine par cet avertissement funebre : — 
* Ce gateau est pour vous dire 
Qu'il faut souffrir et niourir.' " 

Nothing could be happier or more clever than this 
description of the system which prevails everywhere 
in the United States except in Washington, where it 
is necessarily limited by circumstances. American 
society, particularly what is called fashionable society, 
as now carried on, is apparently maintained solely 
for the benefit of young girls, and degenerates there- 
fore into something little better than a marriage 
mart. The parents launch their offs^sring as well as 
possible, and display their wares to the greatest ad- 
vantage, but the business of the market is managed 



394 STUDIES IN HISTORY.- 

chiefly by the young girls themselves, instead of by 
their mothers as in England and Europe. There is no 
special objection to this method of transacting the 
business, but it is preposterous that young girls and 
their affairs should overshadow and shut out every- 
thing and everybody else. The result of this absorj> 
tion in one class and one pursuit is that American so- 
ciety is often insufferably dull and flat. It is made up 
too exclusively of ignorant girls and their attendant 
boys. Half the education of a cidtivated and attractive 
woman is of course that which is derived from society 
and from the world ; and yet American society is al- 
most entirely given up to the business of entertaining 
and marrying those who are necessarily wholly des- 
titute of such an education. Another effect of the 
prevalence of social principles of this description is the 
supremacy of that most rustic and unattractive of 
habits, the pairing system, which converts society into 
a vast aggregation of tete-d-tetes. This prevails all 
over the world to a greater or less extent, but it 
should never reign supreme. The upshot of the whole 
thing with us is to drive out of society nearly all 
married people, — for marriage under such a system 
is destructive of social value ; nearly all unmarried 
women over twenty-five, who are thought to have over- 
stayed their market ; and, finally, a considerable pro- 
portion of the unmarried men of thirty years of age 
and upwards. In other words, except at a few large 
balls and receptions, the best and most intelligent 
part of society is usually lacking. It has been pushed 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 395 

aside, and is obliged to find all its social amusement 
in small coteries of its own. This retirement is of 
course voluntary, because the pairing system ruins 
general society, and makes it, in fact, impossible in 
the best and truest sense. A clever young English- 
man not long ago expressed his surprise at the fact 
that, whenever he asked who a lady of a certain age, 
as the French say, might be, he was invariably told, 
not that she was Mrs. Blank, but that she was the 
mother of Miss Blank. The girl, like the boy, is prop- 
erly the most insignificant member of society. When 
a young man goes forth into the world, he starts at 
the bottom of the ladder, and woi'ks his way up. The 
same rule should apply to young women in society. 
They have their place, and it is an important one ; 
but they should not start in social life at the top, and 
then slowly descend. Such a system is against every 
law of nature or of art, and with its inevitable con- 
comitant of universal tete-d-tetes makes really attract- 
ive general society impossible. We place the social 
pyramid upon its apex instead of upon its base, and 
then wonder that it is a poor, tottering, and unlovely 
object. 

I have sjaoken of the contrast between M. d'Haus- 
sonville and M. de Bacourt, but there is one point of 
resemblance which curiously justifies what has been 
said of Frenchmen with reference to their lack of the 
adventurous, colonizing spirit which has made the Eng- 
lish race so great and powerful. M. d'Haussonville 
talked with the emigrants on the " Canada," during 



396 STUDIES IN HISTORY. 

his voyage to this country, and wondered greatly at 
their courage. " Rather than boldly break," he says, 
" with the memories and the affections which help man 
to support life, I should prefer to continue to suffer 
where I have lived, and die where I was born." But, 
unlike M. de.Bacourt, M. d'Haussonville admires the 
hardy spirit of the colonist and emigrant, and aj)pre- 
ciates its importance and moaning. The French names 
of towns in the United States led him to movirn over 
the fact that the empire of France in the New World 
has departed, and that her influence, except in the 
matter of woman's dress and comic opera, is wholly 
extinct. " O France ! " he cries, " ch^re patrie si 
douloureusement aimde, es-tu done d^finitivement vain- 
cue dans la grande lutte des nations, et comme la Grece 
antique, en es-tu reduite a te venger du monde en lui 
donnant tes vices ! " He concludes with an apjjeal to 
his country to at least preserve its love for the ideal, 
its sense of beauty, and its preference of beauty to 
utility, and ends with the wish that she may deserve 
to be called, as she has been named, the poet of na- 
tions, — a very strange idea in regard to a race which, 
with all its achievements, is almost wholly destitute of 
any really great poetry. 

In the opinion of foreigners, it is said, we may antic- 
ipate the verdict of posterity. Certainly the observa- 
tions of such a critic as M. d'Haussonville are well 
worth careful reflection, for they are wholly free from 
any of the advantages or disadvantages of a writer of 
kindred race, and they come wholly from the outside. 



FRENCH OPINIONS OF AMERICA. 397 

M. d'Haussonville deserves to be read for the intrinsic 
merit of his woi*k. I have coupled him with M. de 
Bacourt, because the two books thus phxced in juxta- 
position gain a historical value and importance. The 
comparison is worth m.aking, for it shows very clearly 
the enormous advances we have made in the last half 
century, and enables us to see, in the strongest light, 
the grounds we have for confidence and pride in oiu' 
country, and what a responsibility the possession of 
such opportunities and of such a fiiture imposes upon 
each and all of us. 



INDEX. 



Adams, Henry, Life of Gallatin, 264. 

Adams, John, opinion of Hamilton, 132 ; 
party position and true course when 
he came to presidency, 15S ; anger witli 
Hamilton for preference for Pinck- 
ney, IGO ; tries to set aside Hamil- 
ton as major-general, 161 ; results of 
this attempt, 163 ; carries tlirougli 
peace policy, 165, 197 ; description of 
Pickering's personal appeai'ance, 189 ; 
retains Pickering as secretary of state, 
191 ; etfect of union witli Hamilton, 
193 ; course in regard to major-gener- 
als, 191: ; opinion of Gerry, 195, 19G ; 
turns Pickering out of cabinet, 198 ; 
Pickering's opinion of, 199, 200 ; at- 
tacked by Pickering on Cunningham 
correspondence, 212 ; national charac- 
ter of, 340. 

Adams, .John Quincy, controversy with 
Pickering, 209 ; dinner with Pickering, 
214 ; opposed by Pickering for reelec- 
tion, 215 ; sends Gallatin minister to 
England, 286 ; national character of, 
342 ; De Bacourt's dislike of, 384. 

Adams, Samuel, Governor Strong's cour- 
tesy to, 242. 

American revolution, immediate and re- 
mote causes of, 86, 87. 

Andros, Sir Edmund, government of, 
76-79. 

Ashbui'ton treaty, 316. 

Benton, Thoslw H., opinion of Ashbur- 

ton treaty, 316. 
Blake, Robert, 4, 12. 
Burr, Aaron, attempt on presidency, 

ir,7. 
Butler, Samuel, literary position, 8. 

Califoenia, admission of, 319. 

Charles U., decadence under, 5 ; court 
of, 6 ; love of science, 7 ; literature 
under, 10. 

Choate, Rufus, Webster leader iij Balti- 
more convention, 318. 

Christmas in New England, 69 ff. 

Clay, Henry, national character of, 342 ; 
De Bacourt on, 383. 

Cobbett, William, interesting career, 
110 ; material for his life, 111 ; origin 
and family, 112 ; race characteristics, 
113 ; boyhood, 114 ; experience aa a 



soldier, 115; emigrates to" United 
States, 116 ; attack on Priestley, 116, 
117 ; becomes newspai^er editor, 118 ; 
character of our journalism, 119 ; at- 
tacks on, 120, 121 ; tried for libel. 
Rush controversy, 122 ; true position 
in our journalism, 123 ; return to 
England, 124 ; parts with Tories, " Po- 
litical Register," 125; returned to 
Parliament, death, 126 ; what he rep- 
resented and accomplished, 126-128 ; 
egotism, consistency, 129 ; character 
of his writings, 130 ; style, place in 
history, 131. 

Cobden, Richard, anecdote as to opinion 
of Webster, 294. 

Colonialism in United States, 330 ; mean- 
ing of word, 334 ; prevalence before 
revolution, 335 ; after adoption of Con- 
stitution, 336 ; at time of French rev- 
olution, 337 ; prevalence from ISOC- 
1815 in politics, 341 ; decline after 
1815, 349 ; in literature 1815-1860, 348- 
355 ; decline after civil war, 358 ; ex- 
istence at present time, 359-366. 

Cooper, J. Fenimore, Lounsbury's Life 
of, 350 ; first novel, 351 ; " Spy " and 
other stories, 353 ; first to cast off co- 
lonialism, 354. 

Crawford, William H., Gallatin on ticket 
with, 286. 

Cromwell, Oliver, 4, 12 ; efforts to es- 
tablish order, 17, 19 ; effect of his 
death, 18 ; Pejjys's allusion to, 19. 

Cunningham correspondence, the, 212. 

Daetmouth College, case of, 299. 

Dearborn, Henry, requisitions refused 
by Strong, 247-^19. 

De Bacourt, book on United States, 367 ; 
poor in itself, 368 ; reasons for publi- 
cation, 368, 369 ; antecedents, 372 ; 
narrow spirit in letters, 376 ; failure 
to miderstand America, 377 ; home- 
sickness, disgust with America, 379 ; 
account of cities, 379, 380 ; believes us 
a failure, 381 ; no moral sense in 
America, 382 ; public men, 383 ; lack 
of humor, 384 ; interview with Harri- 
son's cabinet ; bad spelling, 385 ; con- 
trast with d'Haussonville, 386. 

Dennie, Joseph, literary circle of, in 
PhUadelphia, 347, 348. 



400 



INDEX. 



D'Haussonville, book on United States, 
307 ; contrast with De Bacourt, 38G ; 
character, 387 ; courtesy of, 3SS ; 
newspapers and parties in America, 
389 ; politics, 390 ; classes, 391 ; man- 
ners, 392 ; young girls, 392, 393 ; social 
system, 393, 394 ; dislilie of emigra- 
tion, 395 ; reflections on France, 396. 

Dickens, Cliarles, account of United 
States, 356. 

Dryden, John, literary position, 7, 8. 

Duane, James, attacks Gallatin, 288, 
290. 

Dudley, Joseph, rise of, and his faction, 
32 ; defeats the Matlaers, 83. 

Edwards, Jonathan, minister at North- 
ampton, 229. 
Eldon, Lord, anecdote of, 130. 

" Federalist," The, 344. 

Federalists, character as a party, 157 ; 
mistakes when in a majority, ItJS, 104 ; 
work and premature fall of, 106 ; dif- 
ferent elements among, 182 ; decline 
in 1804-1806, 207 ; essentially a Puri- 
tan party in New England, 226 ; treat- 
ment of Gallatin, 271! ; ability shown 
by Life of Gallatin, 291 ; cease to be a 
national party, 341. 

Fox, Charles James, first position in pol- 
itics, 98 ; first of modern English 
statesmen, 99, 100. 

Franklin, Benjamin, national character 
of, 335. 

Frenchmen, opinions of United States, 
as travelei's, 307 ; narrowness as to 
other nations, 373 ; Inability to colo- 
nize, 375, 395, 396. 

Gallatin, Albert, one of tlie great sec- 
retaries of the treasury, 2t'>3 ; value of 
his biography, 264 ; pedigree and fam- 
ily, 266 ; causes of his emigration, 
267 ; fails in New England, moves to 
Pennsylvania, 208 ; enters politics, 
269 ; opposition to excise and part in 
whiskey rebellion, 270-272 ; enters 
Congress, 273 ; becomes leader of Re- 
publicans ; opinions and services, 274- 
276 ; attacked by Federalists, 276 ; 
wisdom and moderation, 277 ; un- 
soundness as to navy, 278 ; courage 
during Frencli excitement ; election in 
the House in 1801, 279 ; secretary of 
treasury, 280 ; war in Europe destroys 
plans, 281 ; enforces embargo ; quarrel 
with Smith faction, 282 ; report on 
finances encourages war, 284, 2S5 : ap- 
pointed peace commissioner, 285 ; con- 
duct at Ghent ; on Crawford ticket ; 
minister to France and England, 286 ; 
retires to private life ; death, 287 ; 
views of civil service ; attacked by 
Duane, 288 ; naval policy, 289 ; unsup- 
ported by Jefferson, 290 ; theory of 
government, 290, 291 ; character and 
position in history, 291-293. 



George in., character and policy of, 101- 
104 ; effect of his policy on the colo- 
nies, 105-109. 

Gerry, Elbridge, relations with Adama 
and Pickering, 195, 196 ; defeated in 
1800 by Strong, 241 ; and again in 1812, 
246. 

Giles, William B., attack on Hamilton, 
150. 

Gore, Christopher, character ; friend of 
Webster, 297. 

Hamilton, Alexander, Jefferson's and 
Adams's opinion of, 132 ; difficulty 
of writing his biography, 133 ; Morse's 
Life of, 134 ; precocity, 135 ; quarrel 
with Washington, 130 ; conduct in 
Revolutionary war, 138 ; legal abil- 
ity, 139, 140 ; in New York legis- 
lature, 141 ; in the constitutional con- 
vention, 142 ; in the New York con- 
verttion, 143; enters cabinet, 147; 
character of his mind, 148 ; financial 
policy, 150, 151, 153; obtains assump- 
tion of state debts, 152 ; metliod of 
carrying it, 154 ; merits of the sclieme, 
155 ; quarrel with Jefferson, 155, 150 ; 
attacked by Giles, 150 ; position to- 
ward Adams, 158, 159 ; advocates 
equal vote for Adams and Pinckney, 
100 ; appointment as major-general, 
101, 102 ; attitude on alien and sedi- 
tion laws, 164 ; opposition to peace 
policy, pamplilet against Adams and 
proposal to Jay, 105 ; attitude towards 
attempt to put Burr over Jefferson, 
107 ; as a writer, 108 ; cliarges against 
him, 170 ; Morris's opinion of, 171 ; 
views on government, 173 ; attitude 
toward Constitution, 174 ; toward 
state's-rights, 175 ; toward foreign na- 
tions ; personal integrity, 170 ; mis- 
takes, 177 ; personal appearance, 178, 
179 ; in private life, 180 ; place in his- 
tory, 181 ; effect of union with Adams, 
193 ; Pickering's opinion of, 221 ; the- 
ory of excise, 269 ; crushes whiskey 
rebellion, 272 ; compared with Galla- 
tin, 292 ; national character of, 339 ; 
writes " Federalist," *14. 

Hampden, John, 4. 

Harrison, William H., elected President, 
316 ; De Bacourt's account of his cab- 
inet, 385. 

Hartford convention, 210, 254. 

Harvard college, Sewall's account of, 33, 
34 ; Struggle for control of, S3. 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, treatment of New 
England history, 21, 22. 

Hayno, Webster's reply to, 307. 

Irving, Washington, character and posi- 
tion in literature, 344, 345. 

Jackson, Andrew, financial policy of, 315. 
Jay, John, Hamilton's proposal to, 165, 

177. 
Jefferson, Thomas, opinion of Hamilton, 



INDEX. 



401 



132 ; character of his mind, 14S ; ac- 
count of carrying assumption, 15li ; 
quarrel with Hamilton, 155 ; elected 
vice-president, 101 ; removals from 
office, 202 ; denounced by Federalist 
clergy, 2-12 ; not leader of House in 
ISOl, 279 ; formation of cabinet, 280 ; 
light thrown on him by life of Galla- 
tin, 287 ; civil service, 288 ; naval pol- 
icy, 289 ; mean treatment of Gallatin, 
290 ; colonial spirit of, 338, 3il. 
Johnson, Samuel, description of Whig 
party, 93. 

Knox, Henry, member of cabinet ; char- 
acter, 147 ; preferred for appointment 
over Hamilton, IGl ; personal appear- 
ance contrasted with Pickering, 188. 

LouNSEURY, Professor, Life of Cooper, 

350. 

Madison, Jajfes, opposition to Hamil- 
ton's financial policy, 155 ; tricked into 
war, 283 ; sustains Gallatin, 284. 

Marsliall, John, compared with Haniil- 
ilton, 140 ; Webster's anecdote of, 141 ; 
opinion of Hamilton, 181 ; Gallatin 
refuses to reply to, anecdote, 277. 

Massachusetts, condition in 1074, 28-30 ; 
infant mortality, 42, 55; sports, etc., 
in early days, GO, 61 ; funerals, 02 ; 
government of Andros, 76-79 ; in 18th 
century, 84 ; constitutional convention 
of, 233 ; ratifying convention, 237. 

Masson, David, Life of Milton, 1-3 ; ac- 
count of court of Charles XL, 6. 

Mather, Cotton, prays with criminals, 
48 ; with pirates, 49 ; defends wigs, 67 ; 
struggle with Dudley for control of 
college, 83. 

Milton, John, Masson's Life of, 1, 3. 

Mirabeau, Comtesse de, editing of De 
Baconrt ; ignorance and bad taste, 
385, 380. 

Moore, Thomas, description of America, 
347, 348. 

Morris, Gouverneur, " finance the pivot 
of tlie Revolution," 150 ; position af- 
ter defeat of Federalists, 107 ; descrip- 
tion of Hamilton, 171. 

Morse, John T., Life of Hamilton, 134. 

Palmerstox, Lord, opinion of Ashbur- 
ton treaty, 316. 

Paradise Lost, account of, 9, 10, 20. 

Parliament, the cavaUer, 12. 

Pepys, Samuel, reflection on Cromwell, 
19 ; compared with Sewall, 24-27. 

Pickering, Timothy, position as a leader 
in Adams's cabinet, 160 ; typical Fed- 
eralist ; Upliam's life of, 183 ; other 
authorities upon, 184 ; a Puritan, 185 ; 
origin, education, early controversies, 
186 ; career in revolution ; in Wyom- 
ing, 187 ; postmaster-general and secre- 
tary of war, 1S8 ; personal appearance, 
189 ; becomes secretary of state, 190 ; 
26 



feeling toward France, 191 ; position 
in Adams's cabinet, relations with 
Hamilton, 192 ; opj)Oses first mission 
to France, 193 ; conduct in attair of 
major-generals, 194 ; opposition to Col- 
onel Smith and to Gerry, 195, 196 ; 
bitter resistance to peace policy, 197 ; 
denunciations of Adams, turned out 
of cabinet, 198 ; attacks on Adams as 
a candidate, 199 ; a party leader, 200 ; 
attitude in regard to differences of 
opinion, 201 ; elected to Senate, opin- 
ion of Louisiana purchase, 202 ; plan 
for secession in 1804, 203-207 ; gloom 
at decline of Federalists, 207 ; views 
as to Jefferson and France, 208 ; con- 
troversy with Sullivan and Adams, 209; 
eager support of Hartford convention, 
210 ; retirement from public life, 211 ; 
controversy over Cuimingham corre- 
spondence, 212, 213 ; opinion of and 
dinner with J. Q. Adams, 213-215 ; ad- 
vocates election of Jackson against J. 
Q. Adams, 215 ; Puritan characteris- 
tics, 216 ; audacity and courage, 217 ; 
belief in his cause, 218 ; manners and 
democratic feelings, 219 ; local affec- 
tion, 220 ; friendship and enmity, 
221 ; quality of mind, 222 ; real spirit, 
223 ; contrasted with Strong, 225. 

Pilgrim's Progress, account of, 9, 10. 

Pinckney, C. C, appointment as major- 
general, 161. 

Pinckney, Tliomas, candidate for vice- 
president, 160. 

Pirates, seizure and execution of, in New 
England, 48, 49. 

Pitt, William, position in eighteenth 
century politics, 92. 

Plumer, William, leaves Federalists, 207. 

Plymouth, Webster's oration at, 300. 

Polk, James K., politics at lowest point 
durmg administration of, 380. 

Priestley, Dr., attacked by Cobbett, 110. 

Puritans, under restoration, 13, 14 ; in 
New England at same period, 14, 15 ; 
fall of, 15 ; divisions after civil war, 
17 ; perish with Protectorate, 19 ; ef- 
fect of tlieir work and tlieir literary 
genius, 20 ; decline of system of in New 
England, 32, 33, 05, 82, 83 ; religious 
faith, 3.5-37 ; treatment of children, 
42 ; private fasts, 43^7 ; love of pub- 
licity ; Charles I., 47-50 ; treatment of 
criminals, 48, 49 ; practical cliaracter 
of faith, 53 ; sternness of belief, 54 ; 
funerals, 62 ; treatment of death, 63. 

Pym, John, 4. 

Randolph, Edmund, member of cabinet ; 
character, 147 ; turned out of Wash- 
ington's cabinet, 190. 

Randolph, Edward, informs against 
charter, 20, 74. 

Randolph, Edward, Mrs., bows at name 
of Jesus, 74. 

Restoration, the character of, 3 ; deca- 
dence of English supremacy, 5 ; sci« 



402 



INDEX. 



ence and literature of, 7-9 ; Puritan 

literature of, 10, 11. 
Rockingham, Lord, Horace Walpole's 

description of, 109. 
Rush, Dr., controversy with Cobbett, 

122. 

Sargeant, Thomas, whipped at Harvard, 
34. 

Saturday Review, opinion of United 
States, 370. 

Sewall Diary, publication and character 
of, 22, 23 ; begins, 30 ; period of, 31. 

Sewall, family of, 24. 

Sewall, Heiu'y, father of diarist, 24. 

Sewall, Samuel, birth and parentage, 24 ; 
compared with Pepys, 24-27 ; account 
of Indian wars, 28 ; political character, 
32; resident fellow, 33; college, 34; 
studies for ministry, 37 ; reUgious 
doubts, 38 ; religious reiiection on tri- 
vial incidents, 38-41 ; treatment of 
children, 41, 43 ; private prayers and 
fasts, 44— IG ; accoimv of criminals and 
pirates, 48, 49 ; repentance for witch- 
craft, 50 ; account of T. Dwight, 51, 
52 ; account of cold weather, 55 ; 
watch duty, 5G ; observance of Sun- 
day, 56, 57 ; case of Sunday traveling, 
57-59 ; suppresses dancing master and 
juggler, 59, GO ; funerals, C2 ; view of 
death, G3, G4 ; opposition to wigs, G5- 
69 ; to Cliristmas, G9-71 ; to holidays, 
72; to St. George's Day, 72, 73; to 
English Churcli, 74 ; to cross in col- 
ors, 75 ; to sports, 75, 76 ; attacked by 
Andros, 78 ; witchcraft, 79 ; attacks 
slave trade, SO ; courtships, 81, 82. 

Sieyes, Abbe, anecdote of, 129. 

Smith, Robert, driven from cabinet by 
Gallatin, 284. 

Smith, Sam, opposition to Gallatin, 282, 
288. 

South Carolina, group of young nation- 
alists from, 342. 

Spencer, Herbert, opinion of United 
States, 365. 

St. George's Day in New England, 
72 ff. 

St. Leonards, Lord, anecdote of, 112. 

Strong, Caleb, claims to remembrance, 

224 ; typical Federalist and Puritan, 

225 ; ancestry, 227 ; birth, 228 ; educa- 
tion, 229 ; studies law, 230 ; admitted 
to bar, patriotism, 231, 232 ; rapid rise 
in political life, 233 ; delegate to Phil- 
adelphia convention, 234 ; course in 
convention, 235, 236 ; in ratifying con- 
vention, 237 ; elected United States 
Senator, 238 ; services as senator, 
238-240 ; resigns senatorship, 240 ; 
elected governor, 241 ; moderate 
views, 242 ; account of legislature in 
1806, 243 ; defeated by Sullivan, 1807, 
244 ; private life, 244, 245 ; elected 
governor over Gerry, 1812 ; treatment 
of civil officers, 246 ; refuses to comply 
with requisitions of national govern- 



ment, 247-249 ; defense of State, 250, 
252 ; independence of his action, 252 ; 
opinion of Ghent negotiation, 254 ; of 
secession of Western States, 255 ; re- 
th'ement from office, deatli, personal 
appearance, 256 ; correspondence with 
his son, 257-260 ; character and abil- 
ity, 260-262. 

Strong, John, founder of family and 
elder at Northampton, 226, 227. 

Sullivan, James, Pickering's contro- 
versy with, 209, 245 ; defeats Strong, 
244. 

Sunday, observance of, in New England, 
56 ; traveling on, 57. 

Swift, Jonathan, compared with Gob- 
bett, 131. 

Talleykand, views of morality, 382. 

Taylor, Zachary, policy toward Califor- 
nia, 320. 

Tory opinions of United States, 369, 
372. 

Trevelyan, George Otto, Life of Fox, 
94-97. 

United States, condition of, at adoption 
of Constitution, 144-1 4(j ; development 
after 1815, 349 ; literature from 1815- 
1860, 354; sensitiveness to foreign 
opinion, 355-357 ; effect of civil war, 
358 ; colonialism at present time, 359, 
366 ; Spencer's opinion of, 365 ; French 
opinions of, 307 ; Tory opinions of, 
369-372. 

Van Buren, Martin, forces Gallatin off 
Crawford ticket, 286 ; opposition to 
administration of, 315 ; De Bacourt's 
description of, 382. 

Voltaire, friend of Gallatin, 267. 

Walpole, Sir Robert, policy of, 88-90 ; 
corrupt iutluence ; offer of seals to 
Hardwicke, 92. 

Wasliington, George, quarrel witli Ham- 
ilton, 136 ; formation of his first cab- 
inet, 147 ; management of liis cabinet, 
149 ; coui'se in regard to appointment 
of general officers, 161, 194 ; Picker- 
ing's opinion of, 221 ; puts down whis- 
key rebellion, 272 ; national character 
of, 338, 339. 

Webster, Daniel, compared with English 
statesmen, anecdote, 294 ; renewed 
interest in, 295 ; parentage and edu- 
cation, 296 ; in Gore's office at Bos- 
ton ; settles in Portsmouth, 297 ; en- 
ters Congress, 298 ; removal to Bos- 
ton, 299 ; argiunent in Dartmouth Col- 
lege case, 299, 300 ; oration at Plym- 
outh, 300 ; as an occasional orator, 
301, 302 ; style, 303 ; elected member 
of Congress from Boston, 304 ; Greek 
oration ; elected to Senate, 305 ; posi- 
tion on tariff, 306 ; reply to Hayne, 
306, 307 ; personal appearance, 307 ; 
etfects of reply to Hayne, 308 ; as a 



INDEX. 



403 



parliamentary orator, 309 ; humor and 
sarcasm, 310 ; speech in White mur- 
der case, 311 ; as a jury lawyer, 312 ; 
compared \^^th other great orators, 
313 ; opposes compromise ; opposition 
to Jackson, 314 ; opposition to Van 
Buren, 315 ; secretary of state ; Asli- 
burton treaty, 31C ; remains in Tyler 
cabinet ; return to Senate, 317 ; secre- 
tary of state, under Fillmore ; defeated 
in Baltimore convention, 318 ; death ; 
change of tone in 7th of March speech, 
319 ; yields to spirit of compromise, 
320; a "lost leader," 321; love for 
the Union, 322 ; desire for the Presi- 
dency, 32i5 ; in private life, 325 ; in- 



difference to debt, 32G ; moral weak- 
ness, 327 ; cliaracter of his mind, 32S ; 
love for Union, the great quality, 329 ; 
national character of, 3^ ; De Ba- 
court's view of, 383. 

Webster, Ebenezer, father of Daniel, 296. 

Webster, Noali, struggle against colo- 
nialism, 34,5, 34G. 

Wliigs, condition of, in 17G0, 93 ; repeal 
stamp act, lOG. 

Whiskey rebelUon, 270-273. 

White murder case, 311. 

Whitman, Walt, foreign view of, 3G4. 

Wigglesworth, Michael, Rev., poems for 
children, 42. 

Wyoming, troubles in, 187, 188. 



BOOKS ON HISTORY 

BY EMINENT AUTHORS. 

Published by 

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY, 

4 Park St., Boston ; ii East 17TH St., New York. 



American Commonwealths, 

Edited by Horace E. Scudder. 
A series of volumes narrating the history of such States of the 
Union as have exerted a positive influence in the shaping of the na- 
tional government, or have illustrated in a noteworthy degree any 
distinctive political principles, or have a striking political, social, or 
economical history. With Maps and Indexes. 

Virginia. By John Esten Cooke. 
Oregon. By Rev. William Barrows. 

(^In Preparation^ 
Maryland. By William Hand Browne. 
South Carolina. By Hon. William H. Trescot. 
Kentucky. By Professor N. S. Shaler. 
Pennsylvania. By Hon. Wayne MacVeagh. 
Connecticut. By Alexander Johnson. 
Kansas, By Professor Leverett W. Spring. 
Tennessee. By James Phelan. 
California. By Josiah Royce. 

Others to be announced hereafter. 
Each volume, uniform, i6mo, gilt top, $1.25. 

American Statesmen. 

Edited by John T. Morse, Jr. 
The object of this series of lives of American Statesmen is to fur- 
nish volumes which shall embody the compact result of extensive 
study of the many influences which have combined to shape the 
political history of our country. 

John Quincy Adams. By John T. Morse, Jr. 
Alexander Hamilton. By Henry Cabot Lodge. 
John C. Calhoun. By Dr. H. Von Holst. 
Andrew Jackson. By Professor W. G. Sumner. 
John Randolph. By Henry Adams. 
James Monroe. By President D. C. Oilman. 
Thomas Jefferson, By John T. Morse, Jr. 
Daniel Webster, By Henry Cabot Lodge. 
Albert Oallatin. By John Austin Stevens. 
John Adams, By John T. Morse, Jr, 



(/« Preparation^ 

James Madison. By Sidney Howard Gay. 
Samuel Adams. By John Fiske. 
Martin Van Buren. By Hon. Wm. Dorsheimer. 
Henry Clay. By Hon. Carl Schurz. 

Others to be annoimccd hereafter. 

Each volume, uniform, i6mo, gilt top, $1.25 ; half 
morocco, $3.00. 

John Adams and Abigail Adams. 

Familiar Letters of John Adams and his Wife, Abigail 
Adams, during the Revolution. With Memoir by Charles Francis 
Adams. With Portrait of Mrs. Adams. i2mo, gilt top, $2.00. 

G. Lathom Browne. 

Narratives of State Trials in the Nineteenth Century. 
From the Union with Ireland to the death of George IV., 1801- 
1830. 2 vols., Svo, $5.00. 

Rev. M. Creighton. 

History of the Papacy during the Period of the Reforma- 
tion. 2 vols., 8vo, $10.00. 

Thomas De Quincey. 

Biographical and Historical Essays. Crown Svo, $1.50. 

Essays in Ancient History and Antiquities. Crown Svo, 
$1.50. 

Charles Dickens. 
A Child's History of England. Illustrated. i2mo, $1.00. 

J. Lewis Diman. 

Orations and Essays. With Memorial Address by Prof. 
J. O. Murray, and Portrait. Svo, gilt top, $2.50, 

C. C. Felton. 

Lectures on Ancient and Modern Greece. Svo, $5.00. 

Dorsey Gardner. 

Quatre Bras, Ligny, and Waterloo : A Narrative of the 
Campaign in Belgium, 181 5. W'ith Maps and Plans. Svo, $5.00. 

Maj.-Gen. George H. Gordon. 

History of the Campaign of the Army of Virginia, under 
General Pope, from Cedar Mountain to Alexandria, 1862. Five 
Maps. Svo, $4.00. 

George Zabriskie Gray. 
The Crusade of the Children in the XHIth Century. 
i2mo, $1.50. 



George Washington Greene. 

A Historical View of the American Revolution, Crown 
8vo, $1.50. 

The German Element in the War of American Independ- 
ence. i2mo, $1.50. 

R. P. Hallowell. 

The Quaker Invasion of Massachusetts. Third Edition. 
i6mo, ^i—S- 

Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

True Stories from History and Biography. Illustrated. 
i2mo, $1.50. 

John Scribner Jenness. 

The Isles of Shoals. An Historical Sketch. Illustrated. 
Second Edition. i6mo, $1.50. 

Oliver Johnson. 

William Lloyd Garrison and his Times ; or, Sketches of 

the Anti-Slavery Movement in America. With Portrait, and Intro- 
duction by John G. Whittier. New Edition, revised and en- 
larged. 8vo, gilt top, $2.00. 

Charles C. Jones, Jr, 

The History of Georgia. Illustrated. 2 vols., 8vo, $10.00. 

Julian Klaczko. 

Two Chancellors : Prince Gortchakof and Prince Bis- 
marck. From the French. i2mo, ^2.00. 

Henry Cabot Lodge. 

Studies in History. 

Thomas Babington Macaulay. 

History of England. From the last Edition of the Works, 
edited by his sister, Lady Trevelyan. With steel Portrait. Riv- 
erside Edition. 8 vols., i2mo, $16.00; sheep, $20.00; half calf, 
$32.00. 

JVew Riverside Edition. 4 vols., i2mo, $5.00; half calf, 
$12.00. 

Critical, Historical, and Miscellaneous Essays. With 
Memoir, Index, and Portrait. Riverside EditioTt. 3 vols., i2mo, 
^3-75 5 ha-lf c^lf> $9-oo. 

J. A. W. Neander. 

General History of the Christian Religion and Church. 
Translated from the German, by Rev. Joseph Torrey, Professor 
in the University of Vermont. With an Index volume. The set, 
6 vols., $20.00 ; the Index volume separate, $3.00. 



■e --■'■■ 



Carl Ploetz. 

Epitome of Ancient, Mediceval, and Modern History. 
Translated from the German by W. H. Tillinghast, assistant in 
Harvard University Library. Crown 8vo. 

Abby Sage Richardson. 

The History of Our Country, from its Discovery by Co- 
lumbus to the Celebration of the Centennial Anniversary of its 
Declaration of Independence. Illustrated by over 240 Engravings, 
Maps, and Plans. 8vo, )i»4.50 ; sheep, ii^S-oo ; morocco, ;p6.25. 

Sir Walter Scott. 

Tales of a Grandfather. With six Steel Plates. Illus- 
trated Library Edition. i2mo, $4.50 ; half calf, $9.00. 

William H. Seward. 

The Diplomatic History of the Civil War in America. 

Edited by George E. Baker. With Portraits and Memoir. Crown 

8vo, )?3.oo. 

This volume includes the Journal or Diary of the War for the Union, 
from 1861 to 1865, which Mr. Seward, who was then Secretary of 
State, furnished to the United States Ministers abroad for their in- 
formation concerning the incidents and progress of the contest. 

George Shea. 

Alexander Hamilton. A Historical Study. With Portraits. 
Svo, gilt top, $4.50. 

Joseph P. Thompson, D. D. 

The United States as a Nation. Lectures on the Centen- 
nial of American Independence. Svo, $2.50. 

Herbert Tuttle. 

The History of Prussia to the Accession of Frederick the 
Great. With Maps. Crown 8vo, $2.25. 

F. M. A. de Voltaire. 

History of Charles XII. With a Life of Voltaire by Lord 
Brougham, and Critical Notes by Macaulay and Carlyle. 
Crown Svo, $2.25 ; half calf, $4.00. 

Henry W^ilson. 

Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America. 3 vols., 
8vo, each, $3.00. The set, $9.00 ; sheep, ^15.00; half calf or half 
morocco, $20.00. 

*^* For sale by Booksellers. Sent, post-paid, on receipt of price by the 
Ptiblishers , 

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., Boston, Mass. 



^UHr^ 



R*^iaA^ 




>1 









^^-^^ 






~% y>» 















V 



.^' 



^^^<2^ 



.<^ °- 



"%,-% 



.^^ 









,^^^ '. ^ 

O. ^// 




6^ ' ' . . s •> 




^^\.y 



.rs^ » ^ » o ^ V'^ ^^ ^ ^ * 



N^^ %, "' :; ^^ # % '' - ^^ ■ \V^ 95, 



Q. ''/ 




V 



. <^ 






'■■ % 









<^ 95,r^^\<r 



,^" ^ '=> 







%.^^ 



ct> ^^ 



;? 



'^'^^ 



<?> 







%""•-' 









^sp ^ 




' '% .A^ 



^^^ ^^ 



'• ^^-..^^ 



.^ 






■^^0^ 






rO^ 



.^^^^ 



V 












3 



■.^ ^ ^^ 
























. ..s5 



.tf 



,'S'". 






«5 o^ 















&\- 






' * t, ^ ' 















^■K/ 












"/r;^ \^^ % _ <^^ ^o "'^^^ \^^ 9:^'^. 



